Harry Potter and the Doomspell Tournament
by Silverpen
Summary: NEW Chapter 10 is up! Sorry about the mistake, please R&R! I'm getting ready to write another year, if everyone wants. This chapter's for the Sirius fans!
1. Harry Potter and the Doomspell Tournamen...

Harry Potter  
And the  
Doom Spell Tournament  
  
After many months, the saga continues...  
  
A/N: Sorry, I screwed up big on my English mid terms and lost my typing privileges. But don't worry. I'm back, and I'm going to bring you the most TORNADO PACED Fic on the net yet.  
  
So get ready, hold onto your seat, and read on.  
  
When we last left Harry, he had defeated the dark lord Voldemort after completely WASTING Garef, and at the same time, saving Ron and Hermione. We've got to admit, he's got skills, but he's got some rough times ahead of him in this book.  
  
Anyway... after you read this, I want you to review me. Yes, that's right - you. This is going to be an interactive project in which you... THE READERS... (Raises eyebrow in Rock-like fashion)... decide what happens to Harry next through your reviews.  
  
A/N: I don't own Mountain Dew, Harry Potter Copyrights, World Industries, or Sobe. I fully endorse Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.  
  
Enough with the small talk, read on!  
  
Chapter 1  
Party  
  
The light poured into the bedroom at The Burrow. But that was not what awoke Harry Potter. Nor was it the slight breeze that just blew through his open window.  
  
It was more like the large snowy owl that had just fluttered in and hooted softly by his bedside. He opened his eyes and looked up.  
  
"Mornin', Hedwig." He grunted. She gave a soft hoot in reply. Harry sat up and opened up her cage. Then he reached over and untied a small piece of parchment from her leg, and she glided up into the cage. He unfolded the parchment and read it:  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
I've been waiting a while to talk to you. I hope it did reach you. I heard you were staying at the Weasley's this summer. Hogwarts is starting in only a two days, and I still need to go shopping in Diagon Alley. How about you? Would you mind waiting up to go? I should be coming over today.  
  
~Hermione  
  
Harry decided not to send a reply. Hedwig looked beat. He'd just do what Hermione asked. In the meantime, he decided to get dressed and go downstairs for breakfast.  
  
"Good morning, dear." Mrs. Weasley greeted him warmly, as usual.  
  
"Good morning, Mrs. Weasley. How are you today?" He replied.  
  
"Oh, just great. You're the first one up, I see. I think..." But she was cut off by an abrupt thump. Fred and George appeared, each carrying a huge crate down the stairs.  
  
"Oh, I swear!" Mrs. Weasley sighed. "I'd stop you from doing that Weasley's Wizard Wheezes if it didn't bring in so much money! Harry, I heard from them that it was you, in fact, that gave them the money to open up that joke shop, now, where's your common sense, child?" She scolded jokingly. "Those two have a sense of humor about as safe as... well..." She thought for a moment.  
  
"Plastering the dungeon walls with dungbombs right in front of Argus Filch." Harry suggested.  
  
"Not that dangerous." George grunted, lugging his crate out the door.  
  
"Yeah, maybe not. What are those, anyway?"  
  
"You know, we actually got this from a muggle idea." Fred told him. "They're light bulbs, sort of. They send off a blinding flash when you break one."  
  
"Yeah. Great for this and that. We let our customers make their own uses of a lot of products. But the Ministry of Magic ordered these for their hit wizards. Pretty cool, huh?"  
  
"Yeah." Harry sat down at the table, and Mrs. Weasley brought him a plate stacked a foot high with pancakes.  
  
"And there's more where that came from, dear." She added as she turned away.  
  
"Thank you." He started on the monstrous stack. He saw today's Daily Prophet sitting on the table, and picked it up to read it.  
  
"Rita Skeeter fired for Privacy Violation Misdemeanor." He read one article aloud.  
  
"I always knew that would happen one of these days." Mrs. Weasley laughed.  
  
"Morning." Ron yawned as he came down the stairway. "Mum, guess what! I got a letter from Hogwarts. I'm going to be a co-captain for the Quidditch team. Remember that summer league that just finished last month? They liked my performance! And Hogwarts made me the Gryffindor Team co-captain!"  
  
"That's wonderful, dear! Have some pancakes, now." She beckoned him to sit down.  
  
"We've got to go get our schoo, books today." Ron reminded her.  
  
"Yeah. I got a letter from Hermione. She's coming over, she said."  
  
"That's right. We made arrangements. She just came back from her summer in Bulgaria." Mrs. Weasley informed them.  
  
"Bulgaria?" Harry and Ron said in surprise.  
  
"That's right. She was spending the week with Viktor Krum. She wrote me. Would you know it? She learned how to ride a broomstick and even do a few tricks. She just loves it."  
  
"That's great. Maybe that's how she'll get here." Ron mentioned.  
  
"Now, Ron, you know she can't ride over the cities." Mrs. Weasley corrected him.  
  
"I've gotta go!" Mr. Weasley barreled down the stairs, picked up the bag of floo powder, threw some on the fire, kissed Mrs. Weasley goodbye, and left.  
  
"Heard him mumbling something about an emergency earlier." Percy mentioned to them as he came down the stairs. "I've got to leave now, too. Bye." He stepped in the fire, and disappeared.  
  
"Those men, always rushing off. Oh, well. Would you boys like to go to Diagon Alley with Hermione alone? I'm rather busy today myself."  
  
"Sure, Mrs. Weasley. It's fine."  
  
"Great, then! Why don't you hurry and get your coats."  
  
"We have to wait for Hermione." Ron pointed out.  
  
"No, you don't. She's right outside the door. She just came by broom. I saw her fly by the window." Ron ran over and threw open the door. There was Hermione, smiling and holding a brand new Firebolt in her arms.  
  
"Hey. You ready to go?"  
  
"Sure." She replied.  
  
"So how was your vacation, Hermione?" Harry asked.  
  
"Oh, it was wonderful. I'll tell you more at Diagon alley. Let's go!" She was wearing a dragon hide jacket, which really brought out the brown in her eyes.  
  
"Hello, Hermione." Mrs. Weasley appeared, smiling. "Arrived safely, I see?"  
  
"Yes. I almost got hit by a muggle jet on the way over, though." They couldn't tell if this was a joke or not.  
  
"Well, let's go. Diagon alley!" Ron shouted as he threw some floo powder on the fire, and all three of them stepped in after one another.  
  
  
Harry landed last, out of the way of Ron and Hermione. There had been a new chimney installed on the street corner for the floo network.  
  
"Well, what first?" Harry asked.  
  
"How about Gringott's?" Ron reminded him. "I heard they have some really cool new addition. I don't know what it is, though." They walked along the street until they came up to a pair of giant silver double doors, the entrance to Gringott's. And just outside was...  
  
"An ATM machine?" Hermione said, puzzled.  
  
"They think of everything!" Harry smiled. This was not like a normal ATM machine, however. It had a huge coin slot, and a keyhole. Harry took out his key and put it in.  
  
"What do I do now? There's no keypad." He said.  
  
"Just tell it how much you want." The goblin standing at the door informed him.  
  
"Okay... Umm... thirty galleons, forty sickles, forty knuts would be good." He told it. A dragon hide bag appeared below it, and in it poured exactly how much money he wanted.  
  
"What will they have next, pumpkin juice vending machines?"  
  
"Over there." The same goblin pointed. "Next to the candy machines."  
  
"Okaaay..." Harry turned back to his friends. Hermione went next, and took out thirty-five galleons and so-forth. Ron took forty himself, and they headed back down the alley. Their first stop was Flourish and Blotts, the bookstore.  
  
As they first entered, they saw a stack of colorful books on their right. Hermione picked one up, and read the cover.  
  
"Harry! Harry, come check this out! They've got a biography of your early life out! "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone," by J.K. Rowling."  
  
"J.K. Rowling? Who's that?" Ron asked.  
  
"Beats me." Harry remarked.  
  
"Oh, and check this out!" Hermione picked up another book. "Harry Potter and the Silver Bullet Faction," by some guy named Silverpen. It's about your defeat of Garef last year.  
  
"Silverpen? What kind of name is that?" Ron asked.  
  
"I don't know. Must be his pen name, you know, a nom de plume."  
  
"He sounds like a real jerk anyway." Ron commented. "Come on. This year, I'll need The standard book of spells, grade six. He pulled three copies off the shelf, and handed one to Harry, and one to Hermione, who went of to get her books. Harry and Ron, however, had identical classes.  
  
"Let's see... Divination, Transfiguration, ya-da-ya-da-ya... oh! A pocket guide to concealing your curses, I could use that one on Snape, hmm, now let's see..."  
  
Harry read some of the books on the shelves. "Divination for Dummies, the Complete Idiot's Guide to Astronomy, Magic for Morons... don't they have any books for intelligent people nowadays?"  
  
"Quiet!" Harry pulled Ron behind a shelf. They watched as both Crabbe and Goyle walked by, with several stacks of the "For Dummies" series in their arms.  
  
"Must have been written especially for them. Anyway..." Ron continued. "Astronomy, and we get to learn beginners alchemy this year, in place of potions.  
  
"Ron, that's a sub-course of potions. Snape's likely to teach it still."  
  
"Just our luck. Oh well."  
  
When they had gotten all of their books, they met Hermione out front, and then walked over to Madam Malkin's Robes for all occasions.  
  
After they had been outfitted with a new wardrobe, they decided to sit down at the ice cream parlor and relax. Hermione ordered a sundae, Ron a Banana split, and Harry a Chocolate Rocket, another interesting product from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, in which with every bite the chocolate literally exploded in your mouth and left various filling flavors. Ron stopped by a vending machine, and came back with three bottles.  
  
"What's this?" Hermione asked.  
  
"I dunno. It's a new drink called Sobe. I got a Wizard Blizzard, you a Pumpkin Chunker, and Harry's trying something called Tomatopotato blend."  
  
Harry spat out a mouthful. "Why'd you get me that?" He said in disgust.  
  
"It was either that or Mountain Dew."  
  
"Oh. All right, then." He took another swig of Tomatopotato Juice.  
  
After that, they passed by the Quidditch Emporium. Harry glanced in the window, and saw something he couldn't believe.  
  
"A Broom Upgrade!" He stared into the window for a moment, and then walked into the shop. "It says if applied to any broom, it will automatically bring it to the next level."  
  
"What else does it say?"  
  
"Apply to a Comet Two-Sixty, it would become as fast as a Cleansweep seven. Apply to a Firebolt and it's automatically as good as a brand-new Concorde Ultimate!" He automatically picked one up off of the shelf, walked over to the counter, and paid for it.  
  
"Hey, check this out." Ron said as they were leaving. On the shelf was a new broom model.  
  
"What is it?" Hermione asked.  
  
"It says simply... the bird." He told her. It had a big "b" painted on the handle and depicted a burning eagle shooting through the sky painted on the handle.  
  
Ron read a sign beside it. "The first in a series of high-quality racing brooms by World Industries."  
  
"Who're they?" Harry asked.  
  
"I dunno, but that broom looks pretty awesome." Ron turned, and walked out the door.  
  
When they were all finished, they went back to the fireplace at the corner of the alley, threw in a handful of dust, Ron shouted, "The Burrow," and they were off.  
  
***  
  
They arrived back at the burrow, where Misses Weasley greeted them in time for dinner. She was fixing a huge ham and mashed potatoes, and Percy, Bill, Fred, George, and Mister Weasley were all at the table.  
  
"You came to visit!" Ron said with delight.  
  
"I'm here to take you three to the train station tomorrow. Mum and Dad have something to do."  
  
"Oh. All right." Ron sat down in his spot, and Harry and Hermione pulled up some seats.  
  
"It's going to be quite a day. Your father and I have some business at the Ministry, and it might have something to do with your schooling."  
  
"Great." Ron said simply as he stuffed his mouth with potatoes.  
  
"Don't talk with you're mouth full." Miss Weasley shot at him.  
  
"So what are you doing tomorrow, anyway?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Can't tell you. It's confidential."  
  
"You love teasing us, don't you?" Ron remarked.  
  
After the huge meal, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down that night to play several games of exploding snap. After that, they were off to bed. It had been a slow day for them all, but nothing would prepare them for tomorrow.  
  
  
***  
  
"Harry, dear, it's time to wake up." Harry felt Mrs. Weasley gently shaking him.  
  
"Oh yeah." Harry smirked with his eyes half open. Today was the day they left for Hogwarts. He sat up. But there was no one around.  
  
"Mrs. Weasley?" He called. But no one answered. Then he noticed something even more disturbing.  
  
The roof was missing. Even more disturbing, the sky was gone. It wasn't just black, everything seemed to be gone, period.  
  
He grabbed his wand off the dresser next to him and wandered down the stairs into the den to get a better look at what was going on. Then he realized; the whole side of the house was torn away.  
  
"What's going on?" He demanded aloud to no one.  
  
The wind shot dust past and into his face as he stared on in what seemed to be endless darkness.  
  
"You want to know what's going on?" A high pitched voice replied.  
  
"You..." Harry scowled. "What have you done?" He turned and faced Voldemort, standing on the floor above him.  
  
"Why do you care? I promise in a moment, you will be with all your friends. There's nothing to worry about.  
  
"Voldemort, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH THEM?" He demanded.  
  
"I told you about saying my name." Voldemort shook his finger. Harry plunged into his robes for his wand...  
  
...and came out empty handed.  
  
"Looking for this?" Voldemort held up Harry's wand, wearing a hideous grin.  
  
Harry froze. At this point, there was nothing he could do.  
  
"Now it ends." Voldemort told him. "No more slip ups, no more duels, no more luck. I'm just going to plain and simple kill you, and that will be that."  
  
"But what have you done?"  
  
"Take a look." He pointed at the corner of the room. Harry turned, just as a bolt of lightning illuminated the room, to reveal the limp figures of Ron and Hermione hanging from the ceiling by their arms.  
  
"What the hell have you done to them? And everybody else?" Harry shouted.  
  
"I don't have to answer any of your questions, this is my world, now." Voldemort cackled. Just take a look around you." Harry watched as the room filled with death eaters, and they each lined up against the walls.  
  
"Your friends paid for foiling my attempts last year. So I punished them, instead of killing them right away like everyone else. Oh, this will amuse you." He smiled as two people entered the room. One was Cornielius Fudge. The other was professor Dumbledore.  
  
"Professor, we have to stop him! He killed everyone! Come on, do something!" But Dumbledore just stared ahead. There was something ghostly about his face hidden in the shadows. Then another bolt of lightning flashed, and Harry realized; he was rotting. He must have been a zombie.  
  
"I don't... I don't get it." Harry stuttered.  
  
"He works for me now. My worst two enemies, aside from you, suffered a fate worse than death. And now for you. Avada Kedavra."  
  
Before he could even react, Harry Potter fell over, his eyes staring ahead lifelessly.  
  
***  
  
"Wake up, dear, you've got to get ready to go to Hogwarts today." Mrs. Weasley shook him.  
  
He looked up at Mrs. Weasley.  
  
"It's time to get up, dear." She smiled.  
  
"Oh... okay, thanks." He mumbled. She left the room and he got dressed, went downstairs, and sat at the table. He wasn't about to tell anybody about his dream. That's always started some kind of trouble. Mrs. Weasley piled about ten pancakes onto his plate and put the syrup in front of him.  
  
"Eat up, dear." She smiled. Ron was already at the table, polishing off a huge stack of pancakes. Hermione came down the stairs and sat at the table, also.  
  
"Harry, you look like you slept awful. Was everything all right?" Mrs. Weasley asked him.  
  
"Yeah, I'm just fine." He mumbled.  
  
After they finished breakfast, they loaded up their trunks, and loaded all four into the trunk of the Weasley's new minivan. Only this wasn't any ordinary minivan. The trunk space was so magically expanded you could get lost if you walked in the back too far. And as narrow as it was, the back seats could hold five people apiece.  
  
After Mr. and Mrs. Weasley drove off in their old station wagon, Bill got in the front seat of the SUV and started it up, and then they were off.  
  
"Hey, guys, wanna listen to the WWN?"  
  
"Oh, yeah! Turn it to the news, I heard about an interesting issue involving opening hospitals that use magic to help wizards and muggles alike."  
  
"Oh, yeah!" Bill turned the knob on what looked like a regular muggle radio, and they immediately heard the broadcaster's voice.  
  
"And the Minister of Magic today declined to comment. On another note... wait a moment, something's happening." There was a pause. "This just in! The Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, has for some reason broken into this very studio! He's making his way here as I speak... we-(Thump)-he's here!" Ron and Hermione stared at each other for a moment, and Bill was silent with shock. "It's... it's..."  
  
"Avada Kedavra!" A voice shouted in the background, and the reporter was immediately cut off.  
  
Harry stared at the radio in shock.  
  
"Harry Potter. Albus Dumbledore." A voice like nails on a chalkboard screeched. "I know you're out there, listening. I don't need eyes to see where you are, or know what you are doing." Harry didn't know how to react.  
  
"I want my revenge, Harry. And this is how it will happen. Nearing the end of your school year, I am holding a dueling contest. Several of my faithful death eaters will come. To challenge them as well as myself, and to settle some old scores, I demand that the following of my enemies will appear at the contest, or else. And I mean, or else. You see, Dumbledore, I know about the Error Curse. And you know what I mean.  
  
"If the following people do not arrive at the tournament to duel, I will cast the curse. And you know I am not the type to bluff."  
  
"Rghh... what's he up to?" Harry demanded aloud.  
  
"Albus Dumbledore. Severus Snape. Sirius Black. Ivan String. Remus Lupin. Alastor Moody. And Harry Potter will have the honor of facing me in the main event. I am appropriately dubbing this contest, "The Doomspell Tournament.""  
  
Harry was in shock. But not half as much as Hermione.  
  
"I repeat, If these people do not show up, I will execute the Error Curse. Do not make me. I have the power in my grasp now. I will set a date and inform you later. Farewell for now." Suddenly, the radio sounded nothing but static.  
  
"Bummer, Harry." Bill could only say. "But what does he want those people for? I thought Black was a convict, still. Oh, wait, he's on our side. Alastor Moody? What for? In fact, most of those people are former Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers."  
  
"He's pretty pissed that Snape left his service as a death eater." Harry offered. "String and Moody were Aurors, and they probably killed some of his best men."  
  
"Yeah. I'll bet. Don't worry, I'll come with you. Remember how we kicked the sorry crap out of him last year?" Ron smirked.  
  
"You will not." Bill told Ron. "I wish there was a way Harry could get out of it, but I have no idea what the Error Curse is or does."  
  
Half an hour later, they arrived at King's Cross. Harry, Ron, and Bill loaded the trunks onto the trolley, and pushed them toward platform Nine and Three-Quarters. As they entered, the muggle world dissolved around them, and before them was a scarlet steam engine labeled Hogwarts Express.  
  
"Well, you have a good year, all of you." Bill told them after they were done loading the trunks. "Get on the train, now."  
  
The four filed onto the train, but Bill stopped Harry just before he got on.  
  
"Uh, Harry." He pulled him aside. "I know this is going to be tough, though it's not like you haven't faced him before." Harry understood. "Listen, I just suggest that you learn all the curses and defenses that you can. I think Lupin will be at Hogwarts this year, since he's one of the duelers, so he'll be able to help you. All right?"  
  
"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."  
  
"Good luck." Bill turned, and walked out of the platform.  
  
Harry boarded the train, and found Ron, Hermione, and Ginny's compartment.  
  
"Gosh, Harry, that was all so sudden." Ron remarked. "I'm sorry."  
  
"Well, it's not like there hasn't been some sort of problem with Hogwarts every other year. Kind of odd, really, that this is all occurring while I'm here. Maybe I shouldn't go to school anymore."  
  
"Now come on, Harry!" Ginny exclaimed. "Doubt he's going to give us any trouble at school! After all, he want's to fight you in a duel! And I'll bet by then, you'll have learned enough to cream him!"  
  
"Good point." Ron said. "You've got plenty of time. He probably won't try anything until you fight. Maybe you don't even have to duel! What the heck is the error curse, anyway? I've never heard of it before. How bad can it be?"  
  
Hermione whimpered.  
  
"Hermione, what's wrong?" Harry turned to her.  
  
She just sat there, silent.  
  
"Is this about that error curse?" Ron asked.  
  
She nodded.  
  
"What is it? What does it do?"  
  
She just began to shake.  
  
"Hermione, what is it? What could possibly be that bad?"  
  
  
A/N: What did you think? All right, this is where you, the readers, get to vote on what happens to Harry next. Though these may not seem like big decisions, it can affect the outcome of the story big time. Just put the number of the option in your review, and I'll tally the votes before I write my next chapter. Should Harry:  
  
1) Go directly to Dumbledore and ask his advice?  
  
2) Look for Sirius and ask him first?  
  
3) Take it upon himself to learn these curses on his own, with Ron and Hermione's help?  



	2. Harry Potter and the Doomspell Tournamen...

Harry Potter  
And the  
Doomspell Tournament  
  
Sorry, all. Three's won. Harry's doing this on his own. But be sure to vote again-remember, Harry's fate is in your hands.  
  
When we last left off, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, were making their way to King's Cross. While listening to the Wireless Wizarding Network, they heard some awful news.  
  
It seemed that none other than Voldemort himself had entered the broadcast station and had something to say. It turns out, after being told no more hijinks last year, that it would be mandatory this year. Voldemort had challenged Harry to The Doomspell Tournament-and if Harry doesn't show up, he threatened, he would execute the Error Curse. But just what is it about this curse that has Hermione completely speechless? Is it an even more advanced form of one of the Unforgivable Curses?  
  
Or is it even worse?  
  
Chapter 2  
The History Behind the Mystery.  
  
"Hermione? Hermione, what is it?" Harry shook her. She looked about to faint.  
  
"What's wrong with her?" Ron looked over.  
  
"You guys..." Hermione whimpered. She looked spooked beyond words. Then she turned to Harry, grabbing his robes. "Harry, you've got to fight in that tournament! You're gonna have to call Voldemort's bluff! This is beyond serious!"  
  
"Take it easy, Hermione!" Ron put his arm across her to restrain her. "What's wrong, anyway? What's up with this Error curse, anyway?"  
  
Hermione swallowed. She turned to Ginny. "Could you leave for a moment, Ginny? I need to talk to these two alone."  
  
Ginny, visibly confused, merely nodded and left the car. Hermione shut the door behind them. Then she turned to Harry and Ron and began to speak in a low whisper. "You guys have no idea what the Error Curse is?"  
  
They both shook their heads no in reply.  
  
"I'll tell you, then. But we can't let it leak out into the student body, very few people know this. And we don't want to panic everyone. You've got to promise to keep what I tell you in this car a secret."  
  
"All... all right." Harry agreed.  
  
She sighed. "Where do I begin? Harry, do you remember your muggle schooling, before you came to Hogwarts?"  
  
"Yes, yes I do." Harry told her.  
  
"Do you remember anything about space?"  
  
"Hardly. That was high school stuff."  
  
"Okay... okay... Professor Sinestra's Astronomy class, what about that?"  
  
"Oh, yes loads. What about it?"  
  
"All right. Now imagine..." She began. "Imagine... a black hole. You remember what she said about those, don't you?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"All right. Thousands of years ago, when magic was still in it's greatest experimenting years, there was a Wizard. He was obsessed with the apocalypse, and furious at the evils in the world. He developed a spell, one that slowly gathered from within a wizard's entire source of magic, and slowly developed it into..." She took a deep breath. "Into a black hole."  
  
"Whoa, just a second!" Ron started, but Hermione clamped her hand over his mouth, and continued.  
  
"This spell is unbelievably dangerous and would destroy everything if it were executed." Hermione told them. "I read about it once in a very old edition I found in Flourish and Blotts, but few know about it. If they did, we would have seen a lot of panic going on in the station."  
  
"But... if he invented this spell, why didn't he execute it?" Harry asked.  
  
"He did." Hermione said darkly. "The only way you can stop the spell once it is cast is to kill the caster. But the magic emanating from them is impossible for the strongest of wizards or spells to penetrate."  
  
"Then how did they stop him from casting it?" Harry asked.  
  
"I don't know. It's all a mystery. You see, there was only one person there at the time to stop him. And he disappeared along with the caster. They were never seen again."  
  
"Harry, you know what this means." Ron removed Hermione's hand from his mouth. "This means that you have to face Voldemort. We can't tell if he's bluffing. Maybe we should go to Dumbledore about this."  
  
"Not a bad idea. But he would never let me learn the curses I would need to know to stand up to Voldemort."  
  
"That's true. But didn't You-Know-Who say he was listening, anyway?" Ron pointed out.  
  
"Right, but we can't let him know I'm practicing these curses. They're illegal as it is." Harry replied.  
  
"Hmm. But I'm sure Lupin'll cover for you. If he's there."  
  
"Yeah." Harry muttered. As the day wore on, they got more and more bored, Ginny came back and told them she'd be with some other friends, and finally the lunch tray came by.  
  
"Anything off the cart, dears?" The plump Witch asked politely. They all went over and bought a mound of sweets, and sat there eating, more and more bored. The sun was streaking the horizon crimson as they stopped at Hogwarts, finally.  
  
They got out of the car, and started walking with the other students toward the castle.  
  
"Oy, there!" A voice called over the crowd.  
  
"Hagrid!" Harry replied with delight. Hagrid stood towering over a crowd of first years, all of them getting into canoes to take their first journey across the moat to Hogwarts.  
  
"See you at the sorting!" Hagrid shouted to them, and pushed off the land toward the cavelike entrance to the castle.  
  
They crossed the bridge and entered the great hall, where a huddled group of nervous-looking first years stood waiting. Professor McGonagall led them into a back room, and the older students filed into their seats by house.  
  
Just then, Professor McGonagall walked up to the stage, carrying the ragged and patched old Sorting Hat and a scroll of parchment. She stood back as the brim of the hat began to rip to form a mouth, and sing.  
  
"Oh,  
I'm the Hogwart's sorting hat,  
And soon you all shall see  
Who's who of all you first years,  
And just where you will be.  
You could be in Gryffindor  
The brave and strong and courageous  
To be great like them I promise you  
Involves facing the dangerous.  
Or maybe you're in Hufflepuff  
The loyal and the just  
To make anywhere it in this house  
Hard working is a must.  
Or maybe you're a Ravenclaw  
Common sense and intellect  
One of them helped me practice this song  
So my rhymes could connect  
Or perhaps you are a Slytherin  
Cunning, sneaky and ambitious  
To achieve your ends you'll need vigilance  
Wit and to be suspicious.  
So go ahead  
And put me on  
And I'll tell you where you belong.  
Don't wait, don't leave  
Don't hesitate  
The Sorting Hat has sung!"  
  
The great hall once again burst into applause, and professor McGonagall began to read the list of first years.  
  
"Allen, Gary!" Stood up, went to the chair, and as soon as the hat touched his head, shouted. "Ravenclaw!"  
  
"Buliwic, Thomas!" Became a Slytherin. Goldhart, Godric was the first new Gryffindor.  
  
"Wesley, Geoffrey!" Was the last to be sorted. But Professor McGonagall just stood there after that.  
  
"Students," Dumbledore began. "I'd like you to welcome some new students we're going to have sorted this year. They are already in sixth year, however, they are not from this country. They are on a special foreign exchange program for the next two years from America." He finished. A mumble began to come from the crowd, clearly interested. "Before they are sorted, I'd like for them to tell us who they are, what they like to do in America, maybe what it's like, one by one. Students, if you please?"  
  
Five new sixth year students walked up to the stage, and the first one, a girl, began to speak. She wasn't wearing robes, however, she was just wearing a regular tank top and cut-offs.  
  
"Hey, I'm Sharon, from Denver, Colorado. America, well, it's a pretty cool place. School's never this cool, though, it's just like muggle school except for what they learn. We don't get dorms or so many teachers like this, it's just not as cool." She was pretty cute, Ron thought. Next, a tall boy stepped forward.  
  
"Sup, all? I'm Stan da Man McCoy from BROOKLYN!" The whole hall jumped as he shouted. "You know, New York. I listen to hip-hop bands and stuff like that, you know, Jay-Z, DMX, Shaggy, all that. You got a nice castle here, we usually go in regular schools to learn magic and stuff, but this is pretty sweet." He stepped back, and an even taller boy walked up.  
  
"Hey. I'm Marshall Oak, from Harrington, in Delaware. I'm into traveling, that's why I'm here. I heard England was a nice place, and from what I can see it is." He met eyes with a few of the girls in the crowd. "I'm into magical defense, you know, and I've come up with a few spells you all might think is kind of cool." He stepped aside, and another boy stepped forward.  
  
"Heeeyyy... I'm Chuck. I'm from Pittsburgh, you might like it there. It's a nice place, uh, but we don't get no castle to learn in. You might have heard of me before, though. If you've ever read the book "Five Hundred and One Ways to Obliviate a Potato With Magic," I wrote that. Yeah. I'm glad to be here, too. Thanks, all." Finally, the last person stepped, up, a slender bleach-blonde girl.  
  
"Hi." She had a beautiful smile. "I'm Nikki Greene, from Florida. I like your country a lot. It's awesome, I've been sightseeing already. I can't wait to get the year started 'cause I love magic." She didn't have as much to say, but most of the boys paid rapt attention to her gorgeous voice.  
  
"Well, it's nice to meet you all." Dumbledore smiled warmly. "I'm afraid, however, that we do have a sort of dress code. You'll all need to get robes, I thought that was stated in the supply list, wasn't it?"  
  
"Yo, yo, yo, hold up, chief!" Stan started. "You tellin' me we have uniforms? I didn't jump off the cafeteria of the Brooklyn School of Magic because I wanted robes. I wasn't all over the news for filling the principal's office with a garbage truck full of waste because I wanted uniforms. I did it for just the opposite."  
  
"It's true." Marshall piped up. "I saw a video clip of it myself. It was all over the East Coast."  
  
"I remember that! That was you?" Chuck turned to Stan.  
  
"Yup, all." Stan slapped him a high five. The two girls were silent. They obviously didn't like the idea of robes.  
  
"Ahem. I'm afraid you'll have to get robes, I'm sorry." Dumbledore gave Stan a piercing look. Stan decided not to push the matter. He already had an idea up his sleeve.  
  
"Now, it's time for you to be sorted." Stan sat down first, and put the hat on backwards. Dumbledore sighed as the hat mumbled something in Stan's ear and then shouted "GRYFFINDOR!" He got up, took off the hat, and sat down at the Gryffindor table.  
  
Next was Marshall, who didn't have the time to sit down before the hat called "GRYFFINDOR!" again.  
  
Sharon also ended up becoming a Gryffindor. Then came Nikki Greene.  
  
"Hmm." The hat mumbled n her ear after she put it on. "Very intelligent, yes. Loves magic, I'd say a RAVENCLAW!" She removed the hat and sat down at the Ravenclaw table.  
  
Finally was Chuck. He stood, put the hat on his head, and it immediately shouted "Slytherin!"  
  
He took it off, looked over at the Slytherin table, shrugged, and went to sit down.  
  
"Now, to celebrate our exchange student's arrival, I've had the kitchen prepare us some American cuisine, which I hope you'll all enjoy. Let's eat!" He clapped his hands, and the trays on the table filled with food.  
  
At the Gryffindor table the three exchange students sat talking and eating. Marshall put about a dozen red peppers, which nobody else had touched, into his cheese steak, and began to eat it. Stan picked up one, tried it, and nearly jumped out of his seat.  
  
"Whoo-wee, those are hot!" He shouted.  
  
"No they're not." Marshall retorted.  
  
"Bet you a dollar you can't drink that dish full of pepper juice they're in without scoffing."  
  
"You're on!" And in one fluid motion, Marshall picked up the dish and drained it. The Gryffindor students just stared in amazement.  
  
"You charmed your mouth or sumptin' yo." Stan grumbled and gave Marshall a dollar.  
  
Over at the Slytherin table, however, no one barely spoke, except for Chuck.  
  
"So, what's this house thing all about?" He asked.  
  
"Simple." Pansy Parkinson piped up. "We're the best here and everyone else is just jealous."  
  
"Oh, really." Charles gave her a stupid grin to mock her. "You know I don't like your attitude. Just because some hat told you so doesn't make you better. I'd bet the hat is smarter than you." He turned to Crabbe and Goyle. "So what's your guy's names?"  
  
"Crabbe." Crabbe said simply.  
  
"Goyle." Goyle grumbled.  
  
"Nice to meet you." He turned back to Pansy, who was still looking shocked. "So do we have, like, a house leader, or something?"  
  
"Professor Snape." She said coldly.  
  
"Can't wait to meet him." Chuck replied sarcastically. Just then, however, they heard a commotion from the Gryffindor table.  
  
"CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!" Several Gryffindors were shouting, and they saw Marshall drinking a large bowl of pickle brine. As he did this, another Gryffindor was pouring in some hot-pepper sauce and vinegar. Marshall finished the bowl, and everyone groaned, and began to hand him several Galleons apiece.  
  
"YOU DA' MAN!" Stan patted him on the back, and Sharon just sighed and shook her head.  
  
"What is going on over here?" Professor McGonagall demanded.  
  
"Yo, yo, wassup?" Stan stood to greet her. "Hey, listen teach, we just, uh, having a little fun over here and all. S'okay?"  
  
"No, not s'okay." McGonagall said coldly. "I will have no more foolishness," She glared down at Marshall. "Or disrespect. Understand?"  
  
"Comprende, yo." Stan sat down.  
  
"Stan, why ain't you standing up like that time you filled the principal's office with garbage?" Marshall demanded.  
  
"I'm just playing along with this foreign school discipline crap. In my freshman year, I was a Japanese exchange student. I got whipped twice a day. And I still left that teacher in the dust by the end of the year. Believe me, this is gonna be no problem. I've got a plan."  
  
"Okay. Whatever." Marshall replied.  
  
"You'd better not cross McGonagall." Nearly-Headless Nick told them. "She can get real mean real fast."  
  
Stan took one look at Nick and screamed. The entire hall stared in his direction.  
  
"What is it?" Nick asked.  
  
"You're dead! People, this man is dead!"  
  
"Y-yes." Nick acknowledged him, confused.  
  
"Wha-wha-this man is dead! Why is this man dead? This is not right! We have a serious shortage of opaqueness here!" He stared through Nearly-Headless Nick. "Did anybody notice that this guy currently ceases to live? What-what is he doing here?"  
  
"He's our house ghost." Harry told Stan.  
  
"But-but-how can he be here? He's dead! Oh, this is all not right! Oh, I'm so confused I'm not even gonna ask anymore questions." He threw his hands up and sat back down.  
  
"Students!" Dumbledore said suddenly. "Our entertainment has arrived. We have here two of the greatest magicians in the world today. They have come to perform one of their acts. Though most people think they are muggles and they even perform for them, they are in fact wizards, please welcome Pen and Teller!"  
  
Two men stepped up onto the stage, one very tall with glasses, and the other was shorter, with curly hair.  
  
"Good day. My name is Pen. Or at least you may call me that. And this is my assistant, Teller." Teller bowed. "Today, we will be performing a popular trick we like to call the magic bullet. Now, I'm going to need three volunteers from the audience."  
  
Several hands shot up at once, and Pen picked out Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were sitting next to each other. They stepped up to the stage.  
  
"Now, today we have one stipulation." Pen told them. "A lot of muggle rumors have been flying around as to how the trick works. To show you that it's not a fluke, we'll need one of you two to be the one to catch the bullet."  
  
Ron and Hermione swallowed, but Harry said, "I'll do it." Right away.  
  
"Very bold, very bold indeed. Now, please just step over there, and none of us will cross this line." Pen pulled out a wand and drew a glowing red line on the floor with it. "Now, miss, uh..."  
  
"Hermione." Hermione told him.  
  
"Miss Hermione, will you please label a bullet with your initials for us?" Pen showed her a box of bullets, and she pulled one out, and with her wand, carefully etched her initials in.  
  
"Now, Mr..."  
  
"Weasley." Ron said.  
  
"Thank you. Mister Weasley, please etch a picture on there."  
  
"Sure." Ron used his wand to put Smiley face on the bullet.  
  
"Now, neither the gun nor Harry has been charmed, but we will be able to safely transfer it through this glass plate (he conjured up a glass plate on a pole) to his mouth. Since muggle technology goes haywire because of the magical interference, we are using no muggle tricks either. Now this gun will be very loud, so please cover your ears. Everybody ready? Mister Potter, please open your mouth..."  
  
Harry opened his mouth and got ready to "catch" the bullet. Teller aimed the gun...  
  
"BAM!"  
  
"KBSH!"  
  
"PLINK!"  
  
Harry reached into his mouth and spit out a bullet. "That's hot!" He commented. "It definitely went all the way." He picked up the bullet, and put it in a pan Pen extended to him. Ron picked up the bullet and he and Hermione inspected it.  
  
"It's the same bullet." Ron finally said after about a minute of thoroughly examining it.  
  
"Ladies and Gentlemen, Pen and Teller!" Dumbledore announced, and everyone cheered.  
  
"So, Mr. Teller, why do you never talk?"  
  
Teller looked down at her, sighed, and started "speaking" in sign language.  
  
"What's he saying?" Ron asked.  
  
"I'm... kept... under... a... mute... charm... during... the... show. Oh, okay."  
  
"Now, if you'll excuse us." Pen told them. "Teller and I have a routine in Las Vegas in ten minutes. Ladies and gentlemen, thank you and good night." And with that, they walked out the door.  
  
"Well, I did also have U2 coming to the feast to perform, but it seems they have been held up. Oh, well." Dumbledore sat back down.  
  
After the feast had ended, the groups returned to their house common rooms, when Harry was reminded of the Doomspell tournament.  
  
"Guys." He whispered to Ron and Hermione, pulling them aside.  
  
"What's this all about?" Ron asked, tired from the feast.  
  
"Listen, I don't know if you remembered, but I've got to learn those curses. Remember? The Doomspell Tournament? I don't know how long it'll be before Dumbledore finds out that I'm learning these curses and all. I've decided to do it with you guys, instead of consult him or Lupin. Like we did for the Triwizard Tournament just before the third task. I think we work best as a team."  
  
"Okay. Why are you telling us this now?" Hermione inquired.  
  
"I don't, uh, well... I just remembered, and I just wanted you to know. Listen, this is very important. You remember what you said, Hermione? On the Hogwarts Express?"  
  
"Yeah, I know." Hermione whispered. "I think we can learn some decent spells. Not just the unforgivable curses, but the real combat spells, like the ministry hit wizards use. Like Deflectus and stuff. But right now, I'd like to go to sleep. Okay?"  
  
"I hear you." Harry replied.  
  
"Yeah." Ron murmured tiredly.  
  
"Me too." Marshall whispered to them, as he passed.  
  
"What?" The three turned to face him, all wearing shocked expressions when they realized he had heard everything they just said.  
  
"I know about the Doomspell Tournament. I'm also worried about this curse You-Know-Who's talking about. All I know is that it's really bad."  
  
"What... you aren't going to go tell Dumbledore or anybody, are you?"  
  
"From what it sounds like, you've got a lot weighing on your shoulders. But I think I can help you with a lot of those curses. If you want." He added. They just stared.  
  
"If you want. It's... just... sort of a hobby of mine."  
  
"We... we'll think about it." Harry told him. Then the three turned, walked up the stairs, Hermione to the girls' dorms, and stopped at a door with the number six on it. Harry and Ron entered, and saw Dean, Seamus, and Neville all talking and unpacking their trunks. Harry fell into his bed, asleep before he hit the pillow.  
  
A/N: Sorry it's kind of short. Pretty soon we'll get to the good part. As for the next chapter, Neville goes insane... oops. I do have a few ideas ready to write, but I still have to hear from you, the readers. Please vote for both of the following two decision categories.  
  
A)  
  
1. Should Harry, Ron, and Hermione trust Marshall Oak?  
  
2. Or could he be trouble?  
  
B) Also...  
  
3. Is Harry going to discuss the Doomspell tournament with Dumbledore (Though not his attempts to learn various curses?)   
  
4. Or will he keep his knowledge of the Doomspell Tournament under raps for now?  



	3. Harry Potter and the Doomspell Tournamen...

Harry Potter  
And the  
Doomspell Tournament  
  
A/N: I've realized I've had too many cameo appearances in my writing and it is losing class and becoming... bad. Yes, it's one of those things that amateur authors are allowed to enjoy and get away with, but still. For the sake of decent authors everywhere I will continue with my best work only, except for one little surprise for Neville fans everywhere (does he even have any?)  
  
The results are in... By the time I wrote this chapter, you told me in your reviews that Harry should (1) Trust Marshall Oak and (4) Try to keep his knowledge of the Doomspell Tournament a secret from Dumbledore for now.  
  
But if your one or both of your decisions didn't win, don't worry. Just review again - remember that the world's fate now rests in your hands. And why?  
  
To recap our last chapter, Hermione explained that the Error curse was a reason to be afraid. The caster of the curse would be able to open up a tear in space - a black hole - which would undoubtedly be the end of the world.  
  
And now it's fate rest's in Harry's hands, and his in yours.  
  
Chapter 3  
A Spark of Love,  
An Ounce of Justice  
  
Harry awoke the next morning to a gust of cool air and a bright ray of sunshine. He opened his eyes, put on his glasses, and saw that someone had left one of the windows open. He got up and out of bed to close it, and saw that everyone else was still there and asleep. Everyone except Neville.  
  
"Morning, Neville." Harry said.  
  
"Good m-m-morning." Neville yawned in reply.  
  
"What are you doing up, I mean just sitting there?" Harry shut the window.  
  
"Oh, well... I forgot to shut the window, and I just - DAHH!" He jumped with a quick shout.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"I forgot something else. I don't know what, though."  
  
"Forgot? Then what was that shout for?"  
  
"I... I... I had surgery this summer."  
  
"Oh. Okay... what made you jump."  
  
Neville sighed. "What happened is, I had a special charm cast on my brain. Whenever I forget something, I get a shock to the head. Just a little one, for a reminder. They say I'll get used to it soon enough, though.  
  
"Oh, wow. That must be awful. I'm sorry."  
  
"Gran says it's for the best. Oh, well." He got up and left the room. Harry decided to follow.  
  
Breakfast was, as usual, nothing short of grand. Harry was joined soon enough by Ron, Hermione, and Marshall Oak, who had decided to talk to them about the proposition of teaching them some of his custom curses.  
  
"Yeah, I've given it some thought, and I think I could use your help." Harry told him.  
  
"Great." Marshall responded through a mouth of toast and marmalade.  
  
"Just don't tell Dumbledore, though. I don't think we should tell him yet about what I know about the Doomspell Tournament. Harry glanced over at the teacher's table to see that Dumbledore showed no signs of him having said this.  
  
"I've got one for you that will blow up everything in a twenty foot radius, but only if it's a threat to you. So you don't have to worry about friends.  
  
"Where do you get the time to work on-" Ron began but was cut short by someone's shouts from the Slytherin Table.  
  
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" A voice shouted, and then there was a flash of green light and a loud thump. Several people screamed.  
  
Dumbledore immediately leapt out of his seat and tore across the room to the Slytherin table. His shocked expression immediately turned to a mixture of annoyance and just a hint of humor.  
  
"You cast an excellent farce, young man, but you're a terrible actor." Harry looked over and saw Chuck lying on the ground, feigning death. He stood up, mumbling something, and Dumbledore shook his head and turned back to the teachers table.  
  
"What did he do?" Ron asked.  
  
"He cast the farce charm. It allows you to perform the visual and audio effects of any spell without actually casting it."  
  
"That might come in handy. How do you do it?" Ron inquired.  
  
"Just mutter, "Farcio" before you cast the spell and it automatically takes effect."  
  
"Anyway, Marshall..." But Harry was cut of by Marshall's laughter and the fact that he had collapsed on the floor.  
  
"THAT WAS HILARIOUS!" He whooped. "Did you see the looks on their faces?" He asked them as he got up.  
  
"Well, I think I want to start practicing by the end of the week, if it's all right." Harry asked   
  
"You'll see... I'll teach you some of the best curses in the book..." Marshall still howled with laughter.   
  
After breakfast, they looked at their schedules.  
  
"Ooh... just as I feared." Harry muttered.  
  
"Gryffindors have joint potions classes with the Slytherins. As always."  
  
"What can you do?" Ron commented. "Only two years left counting this one."  
  
"What's so wrong with the Slytherins?" Marshall asked. I met Chuck before he was put into that house and he seemed all right."  
  
"Well, most of them aren't a real pleasant crowd." Hermione told him. "They just aren't."  
  
"I wish for once that someone would just get Snape to leave us alone. He's always awful to every house but the Slytherins." Harry added.  
  
"Oh, well, if he'sas bad as you say he is, he's liable to get what's coming to him sooner or later. Don't worry." Marshall reassured them.  
  
***  
  
Potions was, as always, nothing short of awful. Snape had automatically divided them up into teams of three to make a really complex potion. Harry was in one with Chuck and Dean Thomas, but sadly Neville was stuck with Crabbe and Goyle. Snape was seeming to be even grumpier than he usually was, if that were somehow possible, and began shouting at the slightest provocation made by any of the Gryffindors.  
  
As he reviewed the instructions for making the spell while writing the ingredients on the blackboard and facing away from the class, Crabbe and Goyle seemed to be getting bored and began picking on Neville.  
  
"Thwap!"  
  
"Ow!" Neville mumbled as Crabbe smacked the back of his head.  
  
"No talking, Longbottom!" Snape shouted at him without even looking away from the board. Neville suddenly jumped with the pain of a small shock.  
  
"Ouch!" Neville muttered as Goyle poked him in the back with a pen. "Eep!" He was shocked again.  
  
"SHUT UP, LONGBOTTOM!" Snape bellowed.  
  
"Eep!" Neville was shocked again.  
  
"That's IT! TWENTY points from GRYFFINDOR!" Snape shot back, his face flushed red.  
  
"Oww, oww! OWW!" Again and again, Neville seemed to be forgetting things from this constant bullying.  
  
"Fifty points! Sixty! And if you utter another peep..." But Snape stopped. Something bad was happening. Neville was still on his feet, but he was constantly getting shocked. More and more, until he couldn't stop shaking. For almost a minute he kept whimpering and shaking, and everyone, even Snape, was bewildered as to why. Everyone, of course, except for Harry, who didn't know what to do to help, anyway.  
  
"OWW, OWW, OWW!" Neville began to radiate a strange yellowish glow. Suddenly he stopped whimpering and shaking, or even being shocked, for that matter. His hair turned bright golden yellow, and then he looked up.  
  
His eyes. Nobody could believe it. His eyes were a brilliant blue. And his hair was sticking straight up. Then he raised his hands, placing them together out in front of him, and shouted.  
  
"BARBRA STRIESAND!" As to why he shouted this, no one knew.  
  
BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM! A huge yellow ball shot out of his hands and threw Snape to the back wall, unconscious. He then turned on Crabbe and Goyle.  
  
"Uh..." Goyle muttered stupidly. He and Crabbe immediately bolted for the door, but Neville suddenly just appeared right in front of it. They were both speechless.  
  
"How did he do that?" One student mumbled.  
  
"I dunno." Another replied.  
  
"You can't disapperate or apperate on Hogwarts grounds. It must have been pure speed." Hermione whispered.  
  
Crabbe and Goyle just stared at Neville for a minute, and then, realizing that they had no way out, each threw a punch at him at the same time.  
  
Thump! Neville caught both of the punches at once, and squeezed.  
  
CRUNCH! Suddenly the room's silence was shattered by Crabbe and Goyle's howls of pain - Neville had shattered both of their fists.  
  
Suddenly, as the two collapsed, Snape stood, wand pointed at Neville's forehead, and shouted, "STUPEFY!"  
  
The spell struck Neville right between the eyes and threw his head back, but for only a second. Suddenly his icy gaze was fixed on Snape once more, and he shot forward, almost as if he were flying. He kicked Snape into the back wall and as he was down, began punching him and throwing more blasts at him.  
  
"All right, all right, I'm sorry, just don't hurt me anymore and I'll leave you alone! You and all the Gryffindors!"  
  
"Well, okay..." Neville seemed to be giving it some thought. "NOT!"  
  
The Gryffindors couldn't help but smile just a little as Neville continued to whoop up on Snape, Crabbe, and Goyle all at once. They were trying desperately to subdue him, but it was to no avail.  
  
About a minute later, Dumbledore rushed into the room and saw Neville standing over Crabbe, Goyle, and Snape, all unconscious.  
  
"Mister Longbottom?" Dumbledore looked at him with a hint of confusion on his face.  
  
"Professor." Neville mumbled in a funny, slightly odd voice.  
  
"My my, what has happened? To you and everybody else?" For some reason, Dumbledore didn't even seem angered. As if he knew the answer to what he asked, as if he knew it wasn't as much Neville's fault as it seemed.  
  
"These stupid tree-huggin' hippies was pickin' on me so I opened a can of whoop-ass on 'em." Neville replied.  
  
"Are you all right? Do you feel any different?" Dumbledore inquired in a concerned tone.  
  
"All I know is I'm pissed and I want some Cheesy Poofs!" Neville told him.  
  
"I think we'd better all go on to madam Pomfrey's." Dumbledore conjured up three floating stretchers for Snape, Crabbe, and Goyle.  
  
"Yeah, I- (yawn)-think I ought to...-(yawn...)" Thump! Neville had lost his golden hair, blue eyes, and funny glow, as well as the deep, nasally voice, and fallen on the floor asleep. Dumbledore conjured up another stretcher, told the students to wait in the room, and left with the four floating behind him.  
  
"Dude! That was sweet!" Marshall and Stan said in unison.  
  
"Yo, did you see that? That was something else! Marshall, didn't you say something about experimenting with combat curses? I bet you did that to Neville. Genius, yo." Chuck commented all the way from the Slytherin table.  
  
"No, that wasn't me." Marshall, mumbled. "If anyone DID do that, I want to know who, though."  
  
"I'll bet I know what happened." Harry sighed.  
  
"What?" Marshall spun to face him right away."  
  
"Well, Neville had some kind of magical implant that gave him a shock whenever he forgot something really important. I think that's what the bullying does to him."  
  
"Weird." Marshall commented. "But cool."  
  
After alchemy, the Gryffindors headed outside for care of magical creatures. Hagrid always made the class interesting, despite the fact that he usually brought in the deadliest creatures from around the world. This week, it would be rhogadessa.  
  
"What... is that?" Harry stared up at the monstrous spider in the paddock.  
  
"Rhogadessa." Hagrid mumbled with a slur.  
  
"Did he bite you?" Harry noticed a bandage on Hagrid's arm.  
  
"Yeah, he's nasty, he is." Harry was shocked to hear these words come out of Hagrid's mouth, as they all knew Hagrid simply loved monstrous creatures normally.  
  
"We... we won't have to touch it, will we?" Ron whimpered.  
  
"No..." Hagrid sighed. I'd rather yeh not. They're awful creatures, they are. Ain't as much like Aragog as you might think. They love to kill just for the sake of killin'." Hagrid glared at the creature. "I've got antitoxin in me pocket if anyone is dumb enough to get close enough to get bit- Hey! What do you think you're doin! Get away from that!" Hagrid shouted at Chuck, who was playing chicken by sticking his hand in the paddock, and pulling it out as the Rhogadessa charged, trying to rip it off.  
  
"Well, you got bit." Chuck pointed out.  
  
"I had to wrestle it into the cage!!!" Hagrid bellowed.  
  
The point of the class, it turned out, was not to teach how to take care of a rhogadessa but how to handle and even kill it should they come across one. What the monster was was a spider larger than a horse, with a head the size of a computer monitor, four fangs the size of swords and ten times as sharp, and shaggy hair all over. Hagrid first taught them how to counter the bite's poison with a special spell, but reminded them that should they be bitten they'd more likely just bleed to death, or worse.  
  
When the class was finished, made their way to the other two, and finally finished the day. Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way back to the common room before dinner. There they were met by one person. Marshall Oak.  
  
"Ready?" He asked them.  
  
"We were just going to..." Ron thought for a moment.  
  
"Practice your curses." Marshall smiled.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Skipping dinner? I thought so. Come on, I've got some stuff to show you." Marshall picked up his wand.  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"How's this?" Marshall muttered something, and a loud blast and flash of light flooded the room.  
  
The three jumped back but to no avail, as a wall of force slammed into them all.  
  
When the light cleared, they found the room clean and undamaged, as well as none of them were scathed.  
  
"What... was that?" Hermione stood slowly.  
  
"It's an explosion that damages only hostile targets nearby. Try it, Harry. Just point your wand straight up and say 'Destructus Opposition.'"  
  
"Uh, isn't that kind of, well..."  
  
"Yeah, I know, odd enough. Those aren't even Latin derivatives. But that's the way we do it in America. As amateurs. You know."  
  
"Okay. But how can I be sure it's not a fluke?" Harry asked. "I need someone that wants to kill me-" But before he finished, Marshall pointed his wand to his head.  
  
"You have three seconds to cast the curse. Two. One..."  
  
"Destructus Opposition!" Harry shouted, his wand pointing upward. Again, the room was filled with a deafening roar and light. Harry saw Marshall was not only thrown, but flung back as he was blinded, and when the light cleared, he was lying on his back, blistered on the right side of his face and arm. Harry turned, to see Ron and Hermione standing there, expressions of shock across their faces.  
  
"Marshall? Marshall, are you all right?" Harry asked him.  
  
"Yeah." Marshall coughed and sputtered.  
  
"Wow, that really hurt you. But that's an incredible curse." Harry told him as he stood.  
  
"Yes. What it did was do to me what I was about to do to you. But there was a difference. I had to want to hurt you, not just joke around about it. I had to really have hostile intents. They weren't that bad though, because if they were the curse could have killed me. Work with it, but be careful. Got it?"  
  
"Yeah. But shouldn't you go to madam Pomfrey's office? You're severely hurt."  
  
"She'll start asking too many questions." Marshall warned.  
  
"Why don't you just say..." Ron began. "That you were messing around with the common room fire, when..."  
  
"There was a draft." Hermione finished. "A really big one. And it burned you senseless.  
  
"Good idea." Marshall agreed.  
  
"Listen, I'm sorry..." Harry began.  
  
"Sorry? Sorry?!? I'd expect you to be sorry if you couldn't perform that curse right. I knew that would happen. You did just what I wanted you to. It's a simpler one, so I figured you'd get it right off the bat. Why don't you guys catch the rest of dinner. I'll be fine down at madam Pomfrey's. Say hi to Sharon for me, will ya?" He told them, and left without another word.  
  
"What do you guys think of him?" Ron asked them.  
  
"A little odd. And he does have some knowledge of illegal curses." Hermione told them.  
  
"Yeah, but he's helping us out. And you don't know what things are like over in America. I've heard that an alarming rate of muggles over there carry weapons and such to schools. That doesn' mean they all use them, though it's still wrong."  
  
"And Chuck just knew them for recreation." Ron mentioned, holding a copy of '501 Magical Ways to Obliviate a Potato.' By Chuck Breaker.  
  
"So that's his last name." Harry said.  
  
"I don't think Marshall is dangerous or anything. Dumbledore wouldn't let him in Hogwarts if he knew he was in league with Voldemort." Hermione commented. Ron looked stunned for a moment, until he recalled their encounter last year with the dark lord and their slight loss in fear of him. "And you're going to need some help this year, Harry. Have you thought about talking to Dumbledore?"  
  
"Voldemort said he knew Dumbledore was listening to the broadcast. Dumbledore must know I know. But unless Dumbledore wants to talk to me, I'm just going to remain oblivious as to the entire situation." Harry told them.  
  
A/N: So what do you think? Our heroes have decided to trust Oak... but should Harry...  
  
(1) Finally talk to Dumbledore about the Tournament as well as it's contestants, and perhaps work together to contact them?  
  
(2) Or maybe Sirius and Lupin are anxious to hear from him?  
  
It's one or the other. Though these decisions seem pointless, they're not. I haven't got a lot of support, and I hope you haven't forgotten: Harry's fate, as well as the rest of the world's now, is in YOUR HANDS.  
  
Or are you getting tired of the choose your own adventure online writing project? Please tell me what you think of it, but I assure you, when the later chapters, especially the ones involving the actual Doomspell Tournament come out, it's gonna get good and the decisions more important.  
  
Hope you enjoyed this chapter.  



	4. Harry Potter and the Doomspell Tournamen...

Harry Potter  
And the  
Doomspell Tournament  
  
A/N: My apologies. I am officially ending the online review-to-decide-Harry's-fate-project. I have not had much of an outpouring of decisions, mostly due to the quantity and quality of my writing (and lack thereof). Thanks to all of you who sent me your decisions, but you need not bother anymore. (I still like the reviews! However, I am hoping that avid fanfic authors will attempt to carry on where I failed in this.)  
  
I ALSO HEREBY CHALLENGE ANY HARRY POTTER AUTHOR TO WRITE THEIR BOOKS USING DECISIONS MADE BY THEIR READERS AND GIVE FULL PERMISSION TO USE AND EXPAND UPON MY OTHER THREE CHAPTERS AS LONG AS I AM GIVEN CREDIT FOR THEM AND THE AUTHOR TAKES UP THE AFOREMENTIONED CHALLENGE.  
  
Chapter 4  
Curses and Classes  
  
The morning breakfast frenzy was broken for a mere split-second as the owls hurried in to deliver the mail. Poor, tired Errol alighted upon Ron's shoulder, dropping a package onto his plate and fluttering off with a weary hoot. Hedwig dropped Harry's letters before him and he gave her a piece of toast.  
  
Harry ripped open his first letter and saw that it was a quick note from Remus Lupin. It read;  
  
Harry,  
  
Tomorrow night we need to talk. Meet me in Dumbledore's office at eight. Do not tell anyone of this, it is a secret. Say hi to Ron and Hermione for me.  
  
~Lupin  
  
Harry picked up his next piece of mail, a small piece of paper crumpled up. He unfolded it and read;  
  
Harry-dare you to perform the Crucious curse on Marshall Oak.  
~Stan  
  
Another note read;  
  
Don't you dare.  
~Marshall.  
  
Harry looked back at the other one, and suddenly the writing had changed.  
  
Don't be such a loser. Go ahead. It'll be hilarious.  
~Stan.  
  
Now Marshall's had changed.  
  
Don't be such a jerk.  
~Marshall.  
  
Loser.  
~Stan  
  
Don't make me come over there.  
~Marshall  
  
"I just don't get these American exchange students." Harry commented. Down the table Marshall and Stan were writing on pieces of paper, which, Harry was sure, was how they were performing this little trick.  
  
Harry looked back at Marshall's note and now it read;  
  
Harry - tonight at twelve, Slytherin common room. Chuck tells me their all going on a midnight raid and plan to vandalize some Gryffindor stuff, and he volunteered to stay behind. We can practice curses and as a bonus trash their common room. Sweet, huh?  
~Marshall.  
  
"Look what Fred and George sent me!" Ron shouted, ripping open the package. With it came a note which told Ron to test them but not to tell anyone where they were from but what they were.  
  
"I think they'll be all right if you use a few." Ron told Harry.  
  
"What are they?"  
  
"I dunno. Let's open one and find out." He picked up what appeared to be a handful of poppers, picked one out, and put the rest back in the box, which he slipped into his pocket. Walking over to Marshall and Stan, he congratulated them on the joke to Harry, and threw the popper on the ground behind his back, but it made no sound. He got up and sat back down next to Harry. A moment later...  
  
"Do you smell something?" Stan asked.  
  
"No, why?" Marshall replied.  
  
"Hmm..." He sniffed. "Oh, man! What is that? Did you fart?"  
  
"No way."  
  
"The faker's the maker."  
  
"You denied it, you supplied it."  
  
"Hold up, you still are. It's getting worse."  
  
"Dude, that's not me. Maybe it was Ron-"  
  
From across the table, Harry, Ron, and Hermione saw Stan and Marshall throw up simultaneously. Suddenly, they were both on the floor, both regurgitating their breakfast at the same time. Professor McGonnagall rushed over to see what was wrong and immediately sent them to Madam Pomfrey's.  
  
"HAH! That was awesome, did you see it? I wonder how..." Ron pulled out another piece of paper. The piece the package was wrapped in.  
  
"Radius, five meters per popper initial and spreads. The more set off the higher the concentration. Cloud lasts exactly one week regardless. Igniting them gives faster results..."  
  
"Ron." Harry's eyes widened. "Ron, how many do you have?"  
  
"Nine-hundred and ninety-nine. The box says one thousand, and I used one."  
  
"Ron, did it say, the more set off the higher the concentration?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Tomorrow night I'm going to the Slytherin common room. Chuck invited me and Marshall. It'll just be us there. Can I take a few?"  
  
"Did you say the Slytherin common room?" Ron spoke quietly.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"This is the chance of a lifetime. Take them all." Ron nearly choked with excitement. "But wait-how can you trust Chuck, a Slytherin?"  
  
"I trust Marshall. Somewhat. But I think it's best we take advantage of this, you understand?"  
  
"Of course." Ron slipped the package to Harry.  
  
***  
  
At ten to midnight, Harry was the last in the common room. He quietly slipped on his invisibility cloak and slipped out past the fat lady, who was sleeping.  
  
Suddenly, a hand grabbed his shoulder.  
  
"Wha-" Harry jumped, but soon saw Marshall standing in the corner.  
  
"Ready?"  
  
"Ready."  
  
"Good."  
  
"How will you keep from being seen?"  
  
"Don't worry. I'm wearing dark clothing, and if I hide in the shadows, no one will see me."  
  
"What if they hear you?"  
  
"I'm wearing elven sneakers. You can't hear elven shoes."  
  
"Cool."  
  
They crept through the halls and down to a dank, musty dead end. Marshall crouched in the corner and Harry stood behind him. Minutes passed.  
  
Almost twenty minutes later, Marshall finally groaned.  
  
"He must've made a mistake." Marshall whispered.  
  
"Maybe we can't trust a Slytherin."  
  
"No way. Chuck's okay. You-"  
  
"Shh! Listen..." The wall inched open, and a number of Slytherins slipped out, from all years.  
  
"...Now." Marshall whispered as the last of the Slytherin's passed, a handful of first-years, followed up by Crabbe, who appeared to be helping Goyle lead the raid.  
  
Harry sprung into action, grabbing the heavy door before it shut, and he and Marshall slipped in.  
  
"Hey." They jumped. Chuck stepped out of the shadows and greeted them.  
  
"Hey. You ready?"  
  
"Sure. This'll be great." Chuck handed him a roll of toilet paper.  
  
"Wait, what about the curse lesson?"  
  
"Huh? Oh, we won't have enough time for that. They'll be back in a half hour, tops. I made sure everybody went, though. They're hurrying it along because of the lower classmen."  
  
"Why'd you bring me, then?" Harry turned to Marshall.  
  
"I trust you. Come on, I wanted to give you an opportunity. I heard you all hate the Slytherins."  
  
"That's for sure."  
  
"We're just doing this for a laugh. We can do curses later. 'Zat cool?"  
  
"Sure. But why use plain old toilet paper?"  
  
"Plain old toilet paper? This is by the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes! The roll is ten times longer than it looks, and it soils itself once it's on its target!"  
  
"Do you recall throwing up this morning?" Harry asked.  
  
"Oh, yeah. Something stank. We think Ron did it."  
  
"Ron did. He got a box of miniature super-stinkbombs from his brothers."  
  
"So he is related to them. I thought so."  
  
"Yup."  
  
"Well, go wake him up and get a few. Hurry!" Chuck told him.  
  
"I've already got the whole box. He gave them to me."  
  
"Forget the toilet paper." Chuck put away his roll and Marshall gave him back his. "How far do those things spread and last?"  
  
"They spread for a while, they last for a week, and the more we use, the stronger they smell. Especially if we light them."  
  
"Wands out?" Marshall picked his up.  
  
"I'll cover the girl's dorms. Harry, you got the guys. Marshall, you stay here. Make sure not to burn anything." Harry gave them each a large handful of poppers.  
  
"Gotcha." Harry hurried up the stairs. He entered the first-years dorm first. He poured a number of poppers on a bed and lit them. They gave one brilliant blue flare and burnt out, but the bed was not burnt. The stench was immediately apparent and Harry Bolted for the next level.  
  
He poured about forty stinkbombs on the dresser, lit them up, and ran for the door. They had already burnt out when he reached it. Next he bolted for the third year and fourth year dorms, then the fifth. When he reached the sixth, he stopped. No, he would do that last. He went to the seventh, poured about fifty poppers out in the center of the room, and lit them ablaze. Then he hurried back to the sixth year dorm. He didn't know which bed was Crabbe's and which was Goyle's, so he poured half of the pellets in the middle of the room, then about ten each of the remaining into each pillow and lit them one by one. Then he lit the pile in the middle of the room.  
  
When he reached the hall, he realized the stench was really reaching. He let out all his breath and dove down the stairs into the common room. He met up with Chuck, who leapt out of the doorway coughing and gagging.  
  
"Good night! It's awful in there! I got every room. Marshall?"  
  
"Out here!" Marshall opened the door. Harry and Chuck clambered out.  
  
"Marshall?" Chuck called behind him.  
  
"I'll be right with you. I gotta set them off." They waited in the hall for him. But seconds later, they heard something. Then the Slytherins rounded the corner at top speed.  
  
At that moment, Marshall leapt silently out of the common room and crouched into the corner, again barely visible. The Slytherins passed, all of them barreling into the common room, running from something. One of them bumped into Chuck.  
  
"What is it, Chuck, why were you out here?"  
  
"Some Ravenclaw I saw earlier at lunch was in there. I don't know how he got in."  
  
"Are you sure it was a Ravenclaw?"  
  
"I know it was. And how else could she have gotten in without me seeing? It was a Ravenclaw. I didn't see them get away."  
  
"GAAH!" Shouts erupted from the common room. Harry noticed Crabbe was talking to Chuck, and he hurried in to see what the commotion was. Harry and Marshall bolted down the hall and could barely hear the group puking.  
  
"That was incredible!" Marshall laughed.  
  
"They're gonna be pissed."  
  
"But it's great to know we have someone we can trust that can get us opportunities for us. I guess exchange students have to look out for each other."  
  
When they reached their own common room, Ron was waiting for them.  
  
"Did you pull it off?" He asked.  
  
"Operation Stinkin' Slytherins was a success. Hey, thanks for the stinkbombs."  
  
"Always glad. I just hope it doesn't trail down here. You never know. As for the Slytherins, how did you get them all out?"  
  
"I was just told they all left. Maybe Chuck convinced them."  
  
"Yeah. They came around here. Thanks for tipping us off. We had traps set."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Well, besides the fact that my brothers gave me a kit, Seamus Finnigan had set up spots outside that ignited when you stepped in them. Dean Thomas charmed his Quidditch kit to slam into the Slytherins, and I used a charm to alert us when somebody stepped over it. But Neville had the best idea of all."  
  
"Neville?" Harry was somewhat amazed.  
  
"Right. You know how well he does in Herbology? He put out some Devil's snare and charmed ordinary vines to work as snares. Pretty cool, huh? More than half the Slytherins got caught in his traps."  
  
"Cool!" Marshall exclaimed. "So where are these traps now?"  
  
"We got rid of them. Filch came a few moments ago but I was the only one out at the time, and I told him the Slytherins had just come by and started a fracas."  
  
"What if they tell someone it was us that stank up the place?"  
  
"Hold on. Chuck gave us a defense." Marshall stated.  
  
"True, but still. Do we have proof the Slytherins were here?"  
  
"Do they have proof that we were there?"  
  
"No, except for the stinkbombs."  
  
"Who knows about those? As far as those go, anybody could have had those."  
  
"They aren't on the market yet." Ron pointed out.  
  
"You think Filch or anyone keeps up with that stuff."  
  
"Good point." Harry agreed.  
  
They crept back into bed but couldn't fall asleep, laughing uncontrollably for almost half an hour, wondering also where the Slytherins were going to sleep for the next week.  
  
***  
  
The next morning down in the great hall, Harry discovered a number of Slytherins rolling up sleeping bags.  
  
Marshall came in and mad his way to find Chuck in the crowd, and they began congratulating each other quietly.  
  
"Seriously, no, we owe it all to Ron and Neville, they're the real heroes." Marshall mentioned to Chuck.   
  
"A stroke of genius I would have never thought possible from him?" A greasy voice asked behind them.  
  
"Snape." Marshall said coldly.  
  
"Hello, SIR." Chuck snickered.  
  
"Just to let you two know... face me!" He bellowed. Marshall spun, and, being as tall as he was, stared him straight in the eye.  
"I know something went on last night, and if I get a shred of proof about it, it will go straight to Dumbledore!"  
  
"I fail to see the threat."  
  
"You know exactly what I am threatening to do!"  
  
"Go ahead. Here's your proof. I did it. I stunk up the Slytherin common room."  
  
"Marshall, that was you!?!" Chuck acted shocked.  
  
"Quiet, mister Breaker! I know you were conspiring with-"  
  
"But I'm the only one you want in trouble." Marshall reminded him.  
  
"Well, you are, because you just told me..."  
  
"And I'll admit it to Headmaster Dumbledore, too."  
  
"You most certainly will when I tell you to..."  
  
"No, I will be truthful with him because I respect him. I have no respect for you. Oh, by the way, Neville!" Marshall called Neville over. "Show him what you recovered from your Devil's Snare!"  
  
Neville waddled over, clenching something tightly in his fist.  
  
"Longbottom, what is that?!?" Snape demanded.  
  
"A piece of fabric, sir, from one of the slytherin student's robes. It has the emblem of your house..." He said with little hesitation.  
  
"I will take that!"  
  
"No, you won't." Marshall intervened. "And if you go to Dumbledore with my confession, I'll go to him with this. Definite proof that your students were out pulling mischief on us Gryffindors." Chuck took the cloth. "Thanks, Neville."  
  
"I'll see you in Alchemy, Longbottom."  
  
"Hey, Professor, remember, they never fixed that charm in my head. The one that makes me remember stuff." Neville took a deep breath and got RIGHT IN SNAPE'S FACE.  
  
"Oh, I heard about those. ADD wizards in America got them, and went hyper whenever they got pissed off." Marshall told him.  
  
"R-right." Snape said hesitantly. "Off you go, Longbottom." Neville strode away. Snape couldn't forget earlier in the year when Neville had given him the beating of a lifetime.  
  
"Well, what's it gonna be, Severus?" Marshall demanded.  
  
"YOU WILL ADDRESS ME AS PROFESSOR SNA-"  
  
"I will address you as whatever I want. What's it gonna be?" He held up the rag with the Slytherin emblem on it.  
  
Obviously, Snape knew what his own students were attempting to accomplish. He didn't want them in as much trouble as Marshall could get into.  
  
"Very well." Snape growled. "This shall be our little "secret." Agreed?"  
  
"Agreed." Marshall gave a superior smirk.  
  
A/N: I'm back. So sorry, I've had a lot on my mind. Schoolwork, another novel in progress, and petty stuff. But chapter five is coming real soon! I hope I haven't lost my touch. 


	5. Harry Potter and the Doomspell Tournamen...

Harry Potter  
And the  
Doomspell Tournament  
  
Last time, operation Stinking Slytherin's was carried out by Marshall, Harry, and Chuck. But when they thought all was over, Snape himself came forward and revealed that he knew all about their stinkbomb raid! Neville and Marshall, however, were able to stand up to the greaseball, and managed to convince (blackmail) him into not saying a word!  
  
About two months later, now, the Doomspell tournament is nearing very close. Soon enough, Harry, Dumbledore, and the Defense teachers will have to face Voldemort and his henchmen. But will they be able to stand up? Within the next week of Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry will it be decided!  
  
Chapter 5  
The Final Preparations  
  
Harry was growing quite adept at his curses. Marshall had taught him now not only the ally-safe explosion, he had taught him how to send an efficient blast from his wand to blast through nearly anything, and elemental curses, how to burn your enemy with fire, throw or disorient him with wind, make a miniature earthquake follow him around and trip him as long as you concentrate on it, and begin a flood that would wash away anything. Harry was pleasantly pleased with his progress, and now felt semi-confident, taking into account that he had defeated Voldemort before, with and without the protection of his scar.  
  
But there were a few curses he had not exactly learned yet. That's why he was called to McGonnagall's office Friday afternoon after classes, and encountered quite a mob.  
  
"Harry, welcome." Dumbledore greeted him. "Sit down." Over the din, he called out to the small crowd. "Welcome, all. Aurors, former professors, professors, and such, welcome. As you all know, the Doomspell tournament was set for next Tuesday, as announced by Voldemort (many gasps and groans) on the Wireless Wizarding Network last week. The contestants are all here for our side, and I will announce the following names. Will you all sit until I call your name. Of course I will be competing." He said as everyone conjured up or found a chair and sat. "As well as Mister Potter here. Now, will the following people please stand! Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Alastor Moody, Severus Snape, and Ivan String!" They stood.  
  
"Next Tuesday, you will be competing in the Doomspell Tournement. There is no backing out now; the competition is mandatory, you know the risks. The dark lord himself has announced your opponents. Mister Black, you will be challenging Peter Pettigrew."  
  
Gasps. Cornelius Fudge, the minister of magic, stood. "Now see here, Dumbledore, the only reason I didn't have Black arrested was because he was demanded to fight in the tournament, and the stakes are so high, but it has been proven that Pettigrew has been dead for quite some time now!"  
  
"Minister, kindly, you will see for yourself in a week. Please, I must make this announcement. Professor Lupin! You shall combat Hawk Darken, a death eater whose background I have not been informed. I would like the ministry to be on that."  
  
"Already am." Percy Weasley, who was sitting in the back, informed him. He pulled out what appeared to be a laptop and began typing softly.  
  
"I know who he is, all right." Lupin growled in disgust.  
  
"Alastor Moody! You shall compete with Lucious Malfoy."  
  
Moody growled with delight. He couldn't stand the Malfoys, and was ready to punish every death eater he got the chance to.  
  
"We've checked his background, Dumbledore, he's not a death eater! See for yourself..."  
  
"Minister, will you kindly calm down." Dumbledore said, and Fudge huffed and flopped down in his seat. "Severus Snape," Dumbledore continued, "You will take on Rodding Goyle." Snape was stony; he had to challenge the father of one of his own students, howeve, he was a death eater. And this was the fate of the world. What could he do?  
  
"And last of all, Mister Ivan String, you shall compete with... with Garef." Dumbledore cleared his throat.  
  
"What?" Harry stood.  
  
"Mister Potter, now..."  
  
"That is not possible, sir. I killed him myself last year." He tried to stay calm.  
  
"Partly true. But Voldemort's power has far exceeded my expectations, and Garef is back." Dumbledore muttered to him.  
  
"Or perhaps the boy's story isn't as true as we wish it could be." Fudge muttered.  
  
"Get up here." Harry told him disgustedly, suddenly ignoring the traditional and political respects commanded by an elder of Fudge's stature.  
  
"Pardon me?"  
  
"Get right up here."  
  
"Mister Potter, if you please." Dumbledore told him.  
  
"Oh, I please to tell him what I think once and for all. Fudge, you said Voldemort was gone in my fourth year. He's back. You said we shouldn't take the dementors out of Azkaban? What happened to the dementors last summer, mister Fudge? Hmm?"  
  
"Harry..." Dumbledore asked him.  
  
"Well?"  
  
Fudge was sweating. "Last summer, they joined He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."  
  
"Really. What about the giants? We'd be at war with them, too, if it weren't for Headmaster Dumbledore, Hagrid, and Madam Maxime."  
  
"It seems to me, you're delusions have no end mister Potter." Fudge remarked coldly. Is it not you who can speak to snakes? How do I not know you've turned spy for Voldemort in exchange for safety? You are a mere child, and children have little character or courage..."  
  
There were many gasps and shouts of dissent. "Order, ORDER!" Dumbledore silenced the mob. Cornelius! Mister Potter has demonstrated more character and courage under fire by far than most wizards I have encountered..."  
  
"It seems to me..." Fudge continued heatedly.  
  
"It seems to me that you are not worthy of the office of the minister of magic!" Harry shouted above him, with an unworldly anger in his voice, glaring down the minister. "You pelt Headmaster Dumbledore with owls asking for advice for stupid common-sense situations every morning but when you really need his help you refuse it! You are a foolhard, and if you don't start listening to Dumbledore and reason, the doomspell tournament may spell the end to earth as we know it!"  
  
There was a momentary silence, then a small clapping began from the back of the room. Remus and Sirius had begun rooting for him, and then Alastor Moody, Ivan String, and yes, even professor Snape, though not as enthusiastically, and soon the whole room, exempt Fudge, was standing and clapping for Harry. Dumbledore calmed the crowd, who began to take their seats, and continued.  
  
"I myself will be challenging Karkaroff, death-eater and former headmaster of Durmstrang. And Mister Potter shall have to face Voldemort himself. That is, if he is able to defeat Voldemort's bodyguard."  
  
"What?" There were more murmurs breaking out, but quickly hushed. "Voldemort did not tell me who his bodyguard was, however, Mister Potter shall face them consecutively with no rest period in between duels."  
  
"There is not much else to say. Mister Potter, I'm sorry I had to rush you along, but I believe you have a Quidditch match to play, the house cup match soon, if you feel you can. That will be all. Adjourned."  
  
Harry was the only to stand to leave as a hushed silence fell over the room.   
  
"Tomorrow you will begin training sessions for the killing curse with I and the Defense against the dark arts teachers, all right?" Dumbledore whispered to him.  
  
But Harry was stone silent.  
  
"I'm sorry, Harry, this could not be avoided. I realize it will be difficult."  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"Harry, I need to know, do you feel up to this?"  
  
He stared Dumbledore square in the eye, and said for the whole room to hear. "If you somehow get the chance, tell that coward to bring it on." And he strode out.  
  
***  
  
"GRY-FIN-DOR! GRY-FIN-DOR!" The roar was deafening. Harry strode out onto the field with his upgraded Firebolt, alongside the new Gryffindor Quidditch team. Marshall Oak was a new beater, Ron one too, and Katie Bell, and two new second-years and a fourth year were all a part of the team.  
  
They mounted their brooms and prepared to take off, Marshall blew a kiss to Sharon Lonely. All the Gryffindor girls around her went wild.  
  
"Ready... Begin!" Lee Jordan called, his voice magically enhanced. Lee was working for the Department of Magical Gaming, and had taken Friday off to join his old school and see who would win the Quidditch cup this year.  
  
"And they're in the air! The new seeker, Chuck Breaker, is soaring high above the game play to see if he can find the snitch, and Harry Potter is circling just below him, doing just the same.  
  
As Lee called the action, Marshall struck a bludger so hard it dented the ground a few feet below. He got back up in the air and saw the quaffle attempting to escape both a Gryffindor and a Slytherin chaser, and as it passed by, he leapt in between and slammed it so hard with his forehead it shot past the Slytherin guard and into the goal ring.  
  
"And ten points for Gryffindor!" Lee shouted.  
  
"That's not true, it wasn't hit by a chaser, it was hit by a beater!" Snape had just entered the announcer's box.  
  
"I work for the department, there's no rule against that." Lee informed him.  
  
Harry glanced up at Chuck for a second, only a second. Chuck noticed this out of his peripheral vision, and began to dive.  
  
"And it looks like he's found it!" Lee shouted.  
  
"Wronski Feint." Harry muttered to himself. Sure enough, Chuck looked back and noticed that Harry had not followed him.  
  
"Dammit, how did he know?" Chuck demanded to himself.  
  
Harry scanned the playing field. He shot down past Katie and in between the Slytherin beaters, who both promptly swung at him with their clubs.  
  
"Not today, fella's!" Harry shouted with excitement, forgetting about even the tournament and taking in his surroundings.  
  
"Oh, and beater Briggs has just struck Beater Oak with his club! Twice! Oak is beaten, two penalties for Gryffindor!" (Enthusiastic cheers arose from the crowd.) Katie Bell flew up to the goal ring and shot the quaffle clear through it twice, getting no trouble from the second-year Slytherin guard. The crowd roared with excitement.  
  
"And it looks like... Oak's club has been broken in two by the Slytherin Beater! Are there any replacement clubs?"  
  
Hagrid came out of the equipment shed and shrugged.  
  
"It looks like mister Oak can't play. I believe official rules say Gryffindor gets another penalty shot." Lee announced.  
  
"But we need Marshall!" Harry and Katie shouted in unison. It was true; the bludgers were particularly wild today.  
  
"Then I'll play." Marshall told them.  
  
"What about your club?"  
  
"In America, we call this prison rules." Marshall began ripping his undershirt in a strip and wrapping it around his fist.  
  
"You're not serious!" Katie shouted, but Marshall had gone off to discuss it with Lee, Snape, and McGonagall. Less than a minute later, he returned.  
  
"Though it is highly unusual, at the request of Mister Oak and his teammates, we will waive the penalty and allow him to continue play, without his club."  
  
"What? He's insane!" "He'll break his fists!" "He won't stand a chance!" The crowd shouted, while at the same time admiring Marshall's determination.  
  
The match continued. Harry was back in the air, as well as Chuck, and they circled overhead. In the meantime, Marshall was throwing punches left and right, knocking bludgers way off course. It seemed, with his head-on strikes, he was able to do more damage than with a club. He was incredible."  
  
"Look at Weasley go, preventing a bludger from striking Bell!"  
  
"Thanks, Ron." Katie said to him.  
  
"No problem."  
  
Ron was astounding. Not one bludger got past him without a beating.  
  
Then Harry spotted it. Gleaming bright on the field, the little snitch sat there, suspended in time. Harry began his descent just as Chuck did.  
  
They were neck and neck, when, in his peripheral vision, Harry spotted both Slytherin beaters, who must have had a plan. They both held the bludgers and then released them, preparing to strike. Harry could only hope they missed, while concentrating on both Chuck and the snitch. But the first bludger came at him full force.  
  
Ron was right there, but the bludger was too fast, and struck him square upside his head, sending him flying off aside. Now the second beater, a particularly muscular one, shot another bludger at him, this time much harder. Yards from the snitch, it was definitely going to decide the game, it's coming onslaught imminent.  
  
Less than a second before impact, Marshall Oak was there; his hands weren't fast enough, but the bludger struck his arm, and he howled in pain as the bone buckled, then snapped, sending him off his broom and plummeting to the ground twenty yards below.  
  
There was no way Harry could help; he would have to hope Dumbledore was there to keep Marshall from certain death. Harry rode onward, faster and faster, neck and neck with Chuck.   
  
The last second...  
  
His fingertips were inches from the snitch... but Chuck's were closer...  
  
Harry slipped forward on his broom a little and leaned in, he had to do this... for everyone...  
  
He slapped Chuck's hand aside and snapped his wrist, clutching the cold snitch in his fingertips, and raised it for all the crowd to see. Everyone but the Slytherins went completely insane, he'd done it again... six years in a row now...  
  
He descended and skidded in the mud along the ground, and as the team came down also to lift him onto their shoulders, he bolted for Marshall, lying still in a puddle.  
  
"No! No, it's not all right!" He shouted as the crowd still cheered more, barely taking notice of the downed beater.  
  
"Harry. Harry!" Dumbledore firmly but gently grasped his shoulder. "He didn't hit hard, he was stopped. He'll be all right."  
  
"But he's a part of the team! He's the reason we won!"  
  
"You were mostly. You grabbed the snitch!" Katie Bell came down beside him.  
  
"And I would have been unable to if Ron and Marshall hadn't stopped those bludgers. They're the real reason we won!"  
  
"Harry, I saw what went on. He'll be fine, but we need to give him some room. Here, let me..." He pulled out his wand to conjure a stretcher, but at that moment, Marshall started up.  
  
"Huh? Did we do it? Did we win the cup?"  
  
"Yes, Marshall, we won. Especially thanks to your now-broken arm." Harry informed him.  
  
"It's what?" He looked down at it. "I didn't take much notice. My fists are killing me."  
  
"I would believe..." Dumbledore stopped as the fourth year ran over with the trophie and stuffed it in Harry's hand and Marshall's good one (if he did have a good hand at the moment.)  
  
The two lifted it up; Harry was ecstatic; once again, for the sixth year, the Gryffindors retained the Quidditch cup. Pride, honor, glory, all this they took in, thanks to Harry, Ron, and Marshall, and nothing, not even the Doomspell Tournament, could tear Harry away from these moments of happiness.  
  
***  
  
The next morning, the Gryffindors greeted the seniors of the team as they entered, Harry, Katie, Ron, Marshall, and they each took a seat of honor at the end of the table along with the other three. They all helped themselves to an excellent breakfast of cheesecake, blueberry, and honey pastries, bagels, bacon, eggs, donuts, and various other treats.  
  
Harry. A voice said behind him.  
  
"Yes?" Harry turned and stood to find himself facing down Chuck Breaker. Backed up by Crabbe, Goyle, and a good handful of other Slytherins.  
  
"Like we were saying." One Slytherin piped up. "We asked Chuck to show you what he thought of you. Concerning yesterday's Quidditch finals." Now the Gryffindor team stood, and the rest of the dining hall seemed to stare on as Chuck stared Harry straight in the eye.  
  
This is it, it looks like. Harry said to himself, realizing what was about to happen, when Chuck thrust his hand out in front of him.  
  
Was this a trick? No, Harry decided, as he took Chuck's hand and shook it, much to the anger and confusion of the Slytherins.  
  
"You are an unbelievable seeker. Very talented. You're going somewhere, someday. I can tell." Chuck said with sincerity, and with that, turned to go back to his table and eat, parting the crowd of dumbfounded Slytherins.  
  
"Chuck." Harry said behind him.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"You're just as good. We were inches apart, it was sheer chance. You have talent."  
  
"Thanks, man."  
  
This left the Slytherins in confusion and annoyance for the rest of the day, but they definitely aren't as bad as they used to seem, or at least not Chuck, who must have barely fit the requirements for that house.  
  
Now, Monday night, Harry sat in his bed, and a thought occurred to him. Where would the Doomspell Tournament be taking place? How would they know how to get there, and if so, how could they be sure it was not a trap?  
  
"We'll be rooting for you, Harry."  
  
"Huh?" Harry turned to find Chuck, Marshall, Stan, Ron, and Neville standing in the doorway.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Just wanted you to know. Here." Chuck handed him a vial.  
  
"What is this?"  
  
"This, is the worlds most potent acid in a tube. There's an unbreakable charm on it, but I would be careful. Use it only when all else fails, say, you lose your wand."  
  
"The world's...?"  
  
"Yes. It's listed in my book. It might come in handy."  
  
"I brought you this." Neville handed him a pouch. "And Colin Creevey asked me to give you this, he said he didn't want to bug you the last night before your fight." He handed harry a vial.  
  
"That doesn't sound like Colin, but tell him I said thanks."  
  
"No problem."  
  
"What are they?"  
  
"The weed in this pouch will temporarily make you about ten times as fast as you normally are, but it takes a real bad toll on your joints and muscles, so beware. Colin said he swiped that from Snape's stores earlier today. It should make you more resistant to minor curses, charms, and the like."  
  
"This stuff just might come in handy."  
  
"I sure hope. We're all behind you on this one. Oh, and this is for you." He handed Harry a letter. "Cho told me to give it to you. We'll... we'll leave you alone now." Neville stood up and walked out with the rest of them."  
  
Harry opened the letter. It read;  
  
Dear Harry;  
  
I've noticed for a long time your hints, and I think I know how you must feel. To be perfectly honest, I like you, too. There, I said it.  
I know you're under a lot of pressure, so don't let me get in the way when you're out there tomorrow. I mean, that is to say, don't let this note break your concentration.  
I don't know what the future holds for anyone, but, if you'll meet me there, say hi. I wouldn't mind a date or anything like that, if you'd like. If I'm completely mistaken, I'm sorry, just stop reading this. But otherwise, Harry, know I'll be thinking of you.  
Show all the courage we know you have in so many years past. Good luck.  
-Cho  
  
So, now he knew. Now, more than ever, he finally felt ready to face whatever the future beheld, his future and everyone else's.  
  
A/N; Was it good enough? I'm back! I hope you like the story, there's more to come. I'm sorry I discontinued the others, but I think I was trying to carry too much when I started writing those. More to come! 


	6. Harry Potter and the Doomspell Tournamen...

Harry Potter  
And the  
Doomspell Tournament  
  
In the last chapter, Harry was preparing to compete in the Doomspell Tournament, which was now only a day away, after winning the Quidditch cup for the sixth year in a row! But now he must face an even greater task, with even greater stakes. And he must do it all on his own. The Doomspell Tournament was spelling disaster for both Harry and the rest of the world, and even his friends and the items they've given him haven't seemed to make him feel much better. But at least he knows the truth about Cho.  
  
Now, the Doomspell Tournament awaits, the fate of the world hanging in the balance, and could topple for good if Harry is not careful. It will take every ounce of courage, strength, and vigilance for him to prevail in the impending confrontation...  
  
Chapter 6  
The Doomspell Tournament  
  
The light shone down, bright as ever, in the window of the Gryffindor sixth-year dorm. Harry opened his eyes and stretched out, and lied up.  
  
"Good luck, Harry." Neville was sitting on his bed, staring at the wall.  
  
"Neville? What are you doing up?"  
  
"Just thinking. You know. You know exactly what's going on, and all I know is there's something behind this all. I don't know what this curse is, or what it does, but I have a gut feeling this is going to decide it all."  
  
"Don't feel too bad, Neville." He turned to walk out.  
  
"Did I say good luck, Harry?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well, good luck again."  
  
"Thanks." And he strode out.  
  
***  
  
"Mister Potter. Mister Potter, please come with me!" Professor McGonagall called over the din of the Great Hall. "Mister Potter, have you eaten enough?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well, make sure. You need to be in top shape for the... the Tournament." She informed him.  
  
"When do we leave? Where do we go?"  
  
"That's just it. I can't say it here. Please come with me." She said simply, and he stood up and followed her.  
  
Out in the hall, she remained stony, until he broke the silence. "So where will it be?"  
  
"It... it will be here."  
  
"What? Here? In Hogwarts?"  
  
"We couldn't oppose him, there's too much risk. In a moment, the students will be redirected to their dorms. We will be going to the Quidditch field."  
  
"So it won't be in everybody's way, directly?"  
  
"At least."  
  
"Yes." They were silent until they were halfway across Hogwart's grounds. Then McGonagall spoke once more. "Mister Potter, if there's anything I can do, perhaps some last minute tips on spells, anything..."  
  
"I think there's nothing else that can be done. I'll just have to do this once more, all alone. But there's nothing to do." He swallowed, and they reached the Quidditch field, where Headmaster Dumbledore and Professors Moody, String, Lupin, Snape, and Sirius Black stood, as well as The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, standing in the corner, silent. Also there was Mrs. Weasley. As soon as he got there, she gave him a big hug, and started sobbing.  
  
"I'm really sorry about this! I really am, is there anything I can do to help?"  
  
"Sorry. There's nothing. I just want to calm down and get ready."  
  
"Good luck, honey, take care. I'm really sorry."  
  
"It's not your fault, Mrs. Weasley. Thank you." After she'd left, along with Professor McGonagall, he turned to his Godfather.  
  
"Harry, is there anything-"  
  
"No, Sirius, thank you."  
  
"All right. This is just so hard..."  
  
"This is just so hard on everyone," He paused. "Anyone who knows the stakes."  
  
"So true." They all wished each other luck, even Snape, when four figures came across the grounds shouting.  
  
"Who?" Remus began, and then paused. First came Ron and Hermione, who both shook his hand, Hermione hugged him, and then backed off. Cho was next. Harry wanted to say something, but she too embraced him, and for a brief moment, whether on accident or not, their lips brushed.  
  
"Good luck." She whispered in his ear, and stepped aside.  
  
Last came Marshall Oak, who was digging in his pockets. "Harry, I just wanted to give you..." But he paused.  
  
"What's that?" Hermione asked. The rest heard it, too. A low rumbling, and then...  
  
CRAAACK!!! BOOOM!!!  
  
Dark clouds, seemingly out of nowhere, appeared, and swirled overhead. Louder and louder they roared, until a flash of lightning, a clap of thunder, and there appeared eight figures, hooded and shrouded in darkness.  
  
Dumbledore whirled on his feet, the shine no longer in his eyes, and addressed Ron, Hermione, Marshall, and Cho; "You four must GO NOW! Do not look back, it's time for you to leave-" But at that moment, the clouds swirled downward, enveloping the Quidditch field.  
  
"I'm afraid... no one can leave now. Sit down, enjoy the show. It will be your last."  
  
Harry knew that screechy voice. He knew who it belonged to.  
  
Voldemort and his Death -Eaters were here.  
  
***  
  
"So, are you all ready?" Voldemort asked them. "Of course, what preparations do you need to make to die, I've always pondered that. Very well, let us begin. I am anxious to see my Followers defeat you each one by one. This will be most entertaining." He cackled, darkness shrouding the field, the pillar of clouds reaching over a hundred feet in the air.  
  
"Oh, yes, we would need a ring, wouldn't we? Certainly a duel of this occasion deserves that luxury." He raised his hand, and merely pointed at the ground. The earth rose, about two feet in the air. He made a fist, and it got bright... brighter... it was lighting up the whole stadium... and then...  
  
It was stone. The raised earth had become solid stone. Then Voldemort conjured up four pillars at the corners, and stone slabs crossing overhead, linked at the corners.  
  
"What is this all for?" Harry shouted out, surprising everyone.  
  
"Watch. AVADAE KEDAVRUS!" Harry felt his stomach lurch, but instead of what he expected, the four empty walls and the ghost ceiling glowed a pale, transparent green. "Anyone who dares to touch any of these fields will die automatically. You can only enter at the beginning and end of each duel. Is that clear? Oh, and one more thing. Aside from entering and leaving the ring, there are no rules, whatsoever. Understood?"  
  
They just stared on silently.  
  
"Very good." Voldemort made a hideous grin. "Now, to begin. Remus Lupin!" Lupin shuddered as Voldemort called his name. "You will step in and face Hawk Darken, one of my most faithful Death-Eaters. Step up now, be ready!"  
  
"Just to let you all know, Darken was a fugitive and serial killer well known to the ministry. He was responsible for the attempted murder of a friend of Professor Lupin.  
  
They all wished Remus good luck as he stepped up, and the green curtain parted, only for a moment, to let him through. At the other end came Darken, wand in hand.  
  
"Begin." Voldemort said simply.  
  
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Darken shouted. But Lupin was quick on his toes, and Darken was a bad aim. Remus leapt aside narrowly avoiding the edge of the ring, and charged Darken, wand in hand.  
  
"EXPELLIARMUS!" This simple trick did it; the wand flew out of Darken's hand, and he rolled toward the edge of the ring to retrieve it.  
  
"OH NO, YOU DON'T-" But it was too late.  
  
"CRUCIO!" Darken pointed at Lupin, and continued. Lupin's screams of pain echoed off the clouds, embedding themselves in everyone's minds.  
  
"Fight it, Lupin, you can do it!" Harry shouted. "It's all in your head, think beyond the pain!"  
  
Indeed, for a moment, Professor Lupin came to, and a moment was all he needed. He picked up his wand, shouted "IMPEDIMENTA!" and threw Darken halfway across the ring, toward the center.  
  
"He's down! Finish him!" Voldemort shouted.  
  
"What?" Lupin got to his feet.  
  
"Kill him, now! He is of no use to me!"  
  
"I'm not going to kill a man who can't defend himself." Lupin told him firmly.  
  
"Either you kill him, right now, or I will kill you both." Darken was trying to get to his feet.  
  
"Lupin was faced with quite a mental struggle here."  
  
"Well? I will not hesitate to kill you both! You have three seconds!"  
  
"Fine. AVADA KEDAVRA!" Lupin shouted. There was a flash of green light, and Darken went limp.  
  
"Winner. You may exit. NEXT!"  
  
One of the death-eaters levitated Darken's body out of the ring, and dropped it off to the side.  
  
"Severus Snape, my defected Death-Eater. Do you remember when you left my service, Snape? Hmm? You're going to die for that one, a foolish mistake it was, and now you shall pay. Step in the ring immediately! You shall face Rodding Goyle, post-haste!"  
  
"You can't wait to see me die, can you?" Snape asked him, with a courage in his voice that sounded not at all like Snape. He stepped into the ring, the curtain of death parting once more, and reached into his pocket. In the ring stepped Rodding Goyle.  
  
Goyle grunted and laughed a little. He then reached for his wand at a remarkable speed, and Snape pulled out of his pocket not a wand, but a vial, and threw it at Goyle's feet. A thick, dark, red smoke arose where it broke and spilt, and Goyle began to cough. Then gasp. Then wheeze.  
  
Snape glowered at him, and when Goyle slowly lifted his wand, Snape stepped froward, and in one fluid motion, snatched it from Rodding Goyle's hand.  
  
"Gi... give tha... that back." Goyle sputtered.  
  
"Come get it." Snape waved it in front of his face.  
  
Goyle stood and coughed, and then looked up at him. "I am the fastest dueler in England. Watch my hand." He raised it slowly, and Snape paid attention, but it was just enough. Goyle snatched it back, the smoke having no more effect.  
  
"I was never much for silly wand waving." Snape told him, pulling out his own. ""But all the same..."  
  
"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" Goyle shot Snape, binding him, and Snape hit the ground.  
  
"How pathetic." Goyle kicked him. Then again. In fact, Goyle began kicking him very slowly toward the edge of the ring, towards the Kedavrus Curtain.  
  
"Just a second, now, just a second, and it will be all over!"  
  
"Snape!" Marshall shouted. "If you don't break out of that curse, I'll break our agreement and root through your private stores!"  
  
"WHAT!?!" Snape tore one hand free slowly from the curse. "PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" Goyle had him in the curse once more. Now Snape was inches from the edge of the ring... then Harry had an idea. He pulled out the low-level curse-protection serum Colin gave him earlier. Snape was now at the edge of the ring, unmoving, and Goyle shouted back a victory cry to his comrades. It was then that Harry pulled the plug out of the vial, and held it at the bottom with his index finger and thumb.   
  
"Harry, no! What are you doing?" Sirius shouted.  
  
Snape's face was about an inch from the curtain, and Harry tipped the vial, not his hand, but just the vial, and the serum spilled over Snape's lips, and a little into his mouth.  
  
Goyle turned back around to see Snape get to his feet.  
  
"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS! PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" Goyle shouted, but the spell now had no effect.  
  
"Don't you know any other curses?" Snape asked. He pulled out his wand, and at the same time, he managed to recall the disarming curse as Goyle shouted his. BAM! Both of them were knocked back, and both of their wands flew out of the ring.  
  
Snape charged Goyle and thrust his elbow into Goyle's solar plexus, and started throwing punches at his jaw, however, years of being a potions master and nothing else yielded some rather weak shots, and Goyle soon regained his composure, and punched Snape one good time, knocking him over.  
  
Harry gripped the weed in his pocket, prepared to toss it to Snape, but worried about it reaching Goyle and giving him the advantage. Snape leapt up once more, a beaker in his hand, and smashed it over Goyles head, then began shredding his robes with the broken-glass.  
  
"You puny little bastard! I'll kill you for that!" Fgoyle blindly threw both his fists down together to crush Snape's skull, but missed completely. Snape dropped down and performed a rather impressive Russian Leg-Sweep, and Goyle fell back, cracking the back of his head on the cement, and gave a loud bellow. Snape went to choke him.  
  
"You can't win." Goyle wrapped his longer, stronger arms around Snape's neck instead. He began literally choking the life out of Snape, who, with one hand, fought off Goyle, and with the other plunged desperately into his robe pockets. Snape smashed his knee into Goyle's stomach, and Goyle bellowed loudly.  
  
Then Snape shoved a vial into Goyl'e mouth, one with a strange black liquid in it. He broke free from Goyle's grip for just a moment, and put his foot to Goyle's chin.  
  
"Rodding Goyle, your son is a terrible student, and before you die, know simply this; he just FLUNKED FOR THE SEMESTER!"  
  
With that, Snape kicked Goyle's chin, and the vial broke, sending the black liquid pouring down - no, through Rodding Goyle's throat, Harry realized. It was some powerful acid, it must have been. For a moment, Goyle spasmed, and then his head fell back, and flopped to one side.  
  
Snape stood up, gave Voldemort a sneer, and then spit on Rodding Goyle's body, and turned and walked out of the ring.  
  
"Well done, Snape!" Cornelius Fudge spoke up from where he was sitting on the ground.  
  
"Professor, I didn't notice. What is Fudge doing here, it's too dangerous for a man of his stature." Harry asked.  
  
"Well, Harry, he made a bargain. If Pettigrew reveals himself, Sirius will be exonerated of the crimes the Ministry believes he committed.  
  
"I see."  
  
Voldemort was silent for a moment. Then he bellowed;  
  
"You have just killed the fastest wizard dueler in England, and possibly the world!"  
  
"Oh, stop your bawling." Snape called, which Harry wasn't sure was bravery or bravado.  
  
Voldemort growled.  
  
"ALASTOR MOODY! LUCIOUS MALFOY! BOTH IN THE RING NOW!"  
  
"This is progressing rather quickly." Harry said.  
  
"By the way, Potter, were you in my private stores, again?" Snape rounded on him, demanding. Harry was dumbfounded. He'd just saved the man's life!  
  
"Twenty points from Gryffindor for doing so, and twenty five points TO Gryffindor for doing so. That will be all." Snape turned away.  
  
Five points. Coming from Snape, that was worth five hundred points from McGonagall.  
  
Goyle's body was thrown out of the ring, and Moody growled and stepped in the ring, his wand out, and immediately attacked Malfoy as soon as he got in the ring.  
  
"If there's anything I hate, it was a death-eater that walked free!" Moody howled.  
  
"Too bad you'll be dead when you see me walk free the second time!" Lucius retorted.  
  
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Moody shouted, but missed; and what's worse, the spell hit the curtain and bounced off, flying at odd angles and diffracting, sending several beams of green light shooting off at once. Both Moody and Malfoy ducked.  
  
"Eat this!" Malfoy scrambled to his feet after the curse dissipated, and fired a beam of white-hot light past Moody's cheek.  
  
More and more he fired, and more and more he missed, as moody was rather agile for having a peg-leg, and rammed into Malfoy full force, before shouting, "IMPERIO!"  
  
Malfoy was completely stopped. He just stood there, as Moody directed him to sit down.  
  
"There. It's over. I won." Moody addressed the other death eaters. "I could kill him, but I won't. In principal, I've won."  
  
"No. This is to the death." Voldemort informed him icily. Moody raised his wand, but Lucious had already escaped.  
  
Moody knew better than to try the killing curse on a moving target once more, so he shouted various hexes, and finally yelled, "Impedimenta!" which struck Malfoy full-force, throwing him through the curtain and out of the ring.  
  
Moody turned his back. Clearly, the fight was over. Malfoy had gone through the curtain, and his ringout meant certain death.  
  
"There, now are you happy?" Moody demanded.  
  
But there was something not right. Lucius was stirring. Then he got to his feet, and leapt back into the ring, with Moody taking no notice.  
  
"What! But that's not fair!" Harry shouted. Voldemort had obviously parted the death-curtain for one moment to allow Lucius to pass through safely.  
  
"Moody, look out-" But something made Harry's voice leap from his throat. He looked over, and saw a shorter death-eater, his face unseen behind his dark hood, pointing his wand at him. Harry noticed that the spell seemed to affect everyone around him, because they, too, tried to speak, but no words came out.  
  
It was an aura of silence charm. And in the meanwhile, Moody was preparing to leave the ring, taking no notice of Malfoy, who raised his wand and pointed it right behind Moody's head. And since the match was not over, if Moody walked into the curtain, Harry realized, it would kill him.  
  
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Malfoy shouted. But something odd happened. Moody threw his body to one side and ducked, and the spell bounced right off the wall, rebounding right in Malfoy's face. For a moment, he screamed, realizing what he'd done, and then his voice was cut off, an odd silence filling the air. Moody got up and hobbled out, muttering as he passed Harry.  
  
"I hate it when people attack when their opponent's back is turned. Nasty, stinking, scummy, cowardly thing to do."  
  
"There will be a five minute rest period. No longer!" Voldemort gathered with his remaining four death-eaters, obviously to discuss strategy.  
  
"He acts like he owns the place." Harry was finally ably to talk to Dumbledore.  
  
"We'll show him who owns Hogwart's soon enough." Dumbledore told him. They sat down, and Sirius pulled out a canteen of water, and they each took a swig.  
  
"Ivan String shall compete next!" Voldemort informed them from across the field.  
  
"Why does he have to announce everything?" Harry laughed.  
  
"Goody." String said lazily. "So Harry, you never told me how YOU beat Garef last year."  
  
"I thought you'd have learned how. Haven't you worked with the Silver Bullet Faction?" Harry asked.  
  
"Yes, but what did you do?"  
  
"Convertus AG!" Harry pointed at a rock, which turned to pure silver. "I put it straight through him. I believe it is an alchemy spell, transmutation."  
  
"Yes. Well, Garef will have free reign over the inside and outside of the ring without the dark lord's help. Vampires cannot be killed by the killing curse, remember?"  
  
"Oh, yes, I do. Why don't you just take a big stone and hammer your wand through his heart?"  
  
"Not a bad idea at this point. I am dealing with the supposedly unkillable right now."  
  
"Five minutes are up! String, in the ring!" Voldemort demanded.  
  
"Best of luck to you." Harry told him.  
  
"Thanks." And String stepped through the curtain.  
  
  
A/N; Uh, oh! Things definitely aren't looking up right now! Of course, when have they last? Tension mounts as the first three Duels in the Doomspell tournament have chalked up a few point for the good guys, but how long can they keep this up? There's still String versus Garef, Black versus Pettigrew, Dumbledore versus Karkaroff, and Harry has to fight both Voldemort and his bodyguard. Just who is this bodyguard? Will Harry be able to take them both on?  
More coming soon! 


	7. Harry Potter and the Doomspell Tournamen...

Harry Potter  
And the  
Doomspell Tournament  
  
Last time, three of the soon-to-be most infamous duels in history went underway, with all of Harry's friend prevailing just barely. Now Ivan String, his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, must step in the ring with the dreaded vampire revolutionist leader, Garef.  
  
Now it seems one of the heroes is about to face the unkillable, possibly one of the most dangerous beings in the world aside from Voldemort himself.  
  
Of course, String is not without his own skills and abilities, but will they be enough to defeat Garef himself... once more?  
  
Chapter 7  
Cry Havoc  
  
Garef stared at String - and laughed.  
  
"You're hilarious. You should just kill yourself and get it over with!"  
  
"Is that why a young boy destroyed you last year? Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust."  
  
"Very funny. Do you want too feel what it's like to be a pile of ASHES?" Garef spewed out a pillar of fire that just missed String, stopped by the killer green curtain.  
  
"How can he do that?" Lupin demanded.  
  
"I'm a lot stronger than last year, that's for sure!" Garef informed him, and spat more flames at a very fleet-footed and very worried String, who threw off his robes, which had just caught fire, and tossed them out of the ring. He threw his dark hair back and revealed a number of items on a chest-belt, including a semiautomatic pistol, which he whipped out and fired. Garef was unfazed, even when one of the bullets went straight through his forehead.  
  
"Silver. Ooh, it burns." He laughed, and spat out the bullet.  
  
"How-" String didn't ponder long, but next pulled out an oak stake and leapt for Garef, who caught him by the throat in midair and began to squeeze. As hard as he could. String's neck constricted under the pressure.  
  
"BWA-HA-HA, are you ready to die now?"  
  
"You-" String managed to mutter.  
  
"It was a rhetorical question, you know." There was a loud CRACK! And String fell to the floor, completely lifeless.  
  
"No!" Hermione shouted at the top of her lungs, running toward the ring, her wand out.  
  
"No, Hermione!" Ron and Lupin pulled her back.  
  
"He killed him, HE KILLED HIM! PROFESSOR STRING!" She fought to get to the ringside.  
  
"Miss Granger, stop it!" Snape suddenly spouted.  
  
"SHUT UP, YOU, JUST SHUT UP..."  
  
"Miss Granger, PLEASE! There's nothing you can do. Don't go getting yourself killed!"  
  
She gave up and whimpered.  
  
"Now you." Garef turned and pointed at Harry.  
  
"What?" Harry demanded.  
  
"Are you afraid? I want revenge, Potter, for what you did to me last year. It was rather painful, you have had this coming for a long time-"  
  
"GRGHRGHHH!!!" Garef bent forward slightly, a short, silver blade protruding through his left side.  
  
"Professor String!" Hermione shouted.  
  
"That's... my name..." String laughed mildly, holding the hilt of the blade.  
  
"You... scum, you back stabbed me!"  
  
"You would have done the same to me." String justified, twisting the blade. He pulled a cross off of his belt, and brought it onto Garef's forehead.  
  
"GAAAAH!!!" It slowly began burning through his skull. "I just killed you!"  
  
"Not exactly. But you're the best damn chiropractor I've ever met." String rolled his head around a little.  
  
"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" A familiar voice shouted, binding String and making him drop the cross. Garef pulled the blade out of his chest and bellowed at him.  
  
"What? It couldn't be!" Harry shouted.  
  
"They've cheated him!" Dumbledore pulled out his wand.  
  
"No, it just bounces off!" Harry reminded him. "But that voice! It couldn't be!"  
  
"Be who?" Dumbledore asked him, but Harry was already gone.  
  
  
"I'm about to make your worst nightmare come true!" Garef bared his fangs, lifting String off his feet with one hand.  
  
"Forget you!" String spat in his face, still unable to move otherwise.  
  
  
"Very good." Voldemort laughed icily at the shorter death-eater, who was directing his curse at String.  
  
"Of course, just a few more seconds, master." The shorter death-eater acknowledged him.  
  
"Well, here's one victory, one of the aurors who killed some of my most faithful death-eaters!"  
  
"IMPEDIMENTA!" Harry bellowed, knocking the shorter one aside. "EXPELLIARMUS!" His wand flew off. Voldemort scowled.  
  
"I will leave you the privilege to live only if you leave now, simply because I want to kill you myself." Voldemort informed him.  
  
Harry glanced over his shoulder, and indeed, he had prevailed; String was struggling once more.  
  
"Hang in, there, sir!" Harry made his way back to his side of the ring.  
  
  
String was furious, now. He'd had quite enough.  
  
"Go ahead! I'm going to kill you once and for all!" Garef bellowed.  
  
"For my sake, I hope there's a little human left in you!" And with that, String thrust his knee full-force into Garef's genitals.  
  
Garef silently released his grip and stopped silent, bending over, and then let out an animal howl. String rolled over and snatched up the blade from before, returning, and with one clean slice, took off Garef's head.  
  
Now there was just his head and his body, but Garef's head began screaming at him.  
  
"BASTARD! It's not over! I'm gonna pay you back in spades for that one!"  
  
"He's like a giant, annoying mosquito." Hermione told him.  
  
"Yeah, but when a mosquito bites you, do you turn into one?" String laughed, and used his wand to light up Garef's body. It soon dissolved into a pile of ashes.  
  
"Hey! Don't do that! Oooh, you got me pissed now, I'm gonna kill you for that!"  
  
"Shut up." String turned his wand on Garef's head.  
  
"HEY! NO! DON'T!"  
  
PLAAAM! String's wand left a smoldering crater where Garef's head had lay, cutting off Garef's momentary scream  
  
"Well, that was easier than I expected." String hopped out of the ring, ignoring Voldemort's furious wails of anger and frustration.  
  
"You beat him in a fraction of the time Harry did last year!" Ron applauded him.  
  
"Well, I used to do it for a living, you know." String informed him.  
  
They were now four matches into the Doomspell Tournament.  
  
***  
  
Neville, Seamus, Dean, Stan, Colin, and Sharon were staring out the common room window at the great swirling pillar of cloud, that had grown in the last hour from a hundred feet to over a mile into the sky.  
  
Nikki and Chuck soon joined them for a view.  
  
"It's incredible." Dean was awed.  
  
"It's hard to believe the fate of the world is being decided as we speak, in our own backyard." Sharon muttered.  
  
"Kind of exciting!" Colin piped up. They just stared at him.  
  
"Hey, everybody, where's Marshall?" Chuck asked as he entered.  
  
"Or Ron or Hermione, for that matter?" Nikki added.  
  
"They went out to wish Harry good luck-" Colin informed them, and paused in horror.  
  
"No way." Neville paled as it dawned upon them.  
  
***  
  
"The next match will definitely be to our advantage." Voldemort announced. "Pettigrew, my loyal (snicker) follower , shall challenge Sirius Black."  
  
"No problem." Sirius pulled out his wand and made his way to the ring.  
  
"Be on your guard, something is not right!" Dumbledore told him.  
  
"Good luck, Sirius." Harry hugged him, despite the fact that he was around so many people.  
  
"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Moody roared.  
  
"Thanks, but I got it covered."  
  
"Black!" Snape bellowed. Black faced him.  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
"Don't be a fool, the Headmaster is right. We know Pettigrew is a weakling and a coward, especially from our school days, but there definitely is something up! Don't be arrogant, and..." He reached into his pocket, and tossed Sirius a vial. "Drink it when you need it. You'll know when." Sirius looked at the vial for a moment, a thick, grey liquid sloshing around in it.  
  
"Very well. Thank you all."  
  
"I am growing impatient!" Voldemort shouted.  
  
Sirius got into the ring and watched as a hooded figure made it's way in, a little short and a little wide. He raised his wand and waited...  
  
Pettigrew ripped off his cloak, revealing his face, and in one hand, a wand, in the other...  
  
The other seemed to be composed of shiny chrome, shiny almost as if it were made of mercury.  
  
Pettigrew gave an evil smirk.  
  
"Old friend. It's been too long." He said.  
  
"Yes, I've waited a long time for this. What happened to your hand? I thought you only lost a finger."  
  
"I lost this hand for my master, and soon I'll take your head for him." Pettigrew threw his wand aside.  
  
"Pettigrew! Do not be arrogant!" Voldemort shouted.  
  
"I've got this." Pettigrew told him.  
  
"Insolence! Idiocy! Finish this quickly, you fool!"  
  
"Go ahead. Take your best shot." Pettigrew coaxed him.  
  
"I'm not going to attack an unarmed man." Black said. "Even if he did betray his own friends, kill them, frame me. Pick up your wand, you coward."  
  
"Oh, but I don't need it." Peter laughed, and pointed at black. "WINGARDIUM LEVIOSIA!" Black was lifted off his feet, and Pettigrew tossed him about the ring.  
  
"Hilarious! I've waited so long!" Peter directed him to fly into the death-curtain.  
  
"BLACK, NOW! THE POTION, NOW!" Snape shouted at him.  
  
"What?" Black uncorked the vial, and swigged it down in one gulp, without the slightest idea what it would do.  
  
"What? Where'd he go?" Peter demanded.  
  
Black landed on the ground just short of the wall.  
  
"He has a lot of power behind that spell to levitate me around with that." Black realized. "But he'd, have to have lost his concentration or lost his sight of me to..." Then Sirius realized; the potion had made him invisible.  
  
"Looks like it's back in my hands." Sirius quietly slipped around behind a very confused Pettigrew, who then spoke up.  
  
"As you have seen, I threw him straight through the side of the ring. The Kedavrus curse has killed him. I win."  
  
"Pettigrew, behind you!" One of the death-eaters shouted. Sirius was shocked. Had the potion worn off already?  
  
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Sirius pointed his wand straight at Pettigrew's head. The green light blinded him for just a moment, and then...  
  
Pettigrew still stood. He raised his hand in the way of Sirius's wand.  
  
"What is that thing?" Black demanded.  
  
"Watch and learn." Pettigrew laughed, and grabbed Black's wand, and splintered it with his bare hand. Then he went for Pettigrew's throat.  
  
"No rush, just die." He laughed louder and louder as his grip tightened.  
  
"You know, I could finish you in and instant, but this is just too much fun." He laughed. Sirius looked him right in the eyes.  
  
His eyes were pale. Beyond pale, they were white, completely.  
  
"You're not the old Pettigrew!" Sirius managed to choke out.  
  
"Maybe not."  
  
"Finish him!" Voldemort screeched. Black wrenched free, and dove for the edge of the ring, where he found Pettigrew's wand, just sitting there.  
  
"That hand..." He muttered. "Block this!" Pettigrew raised his silver arm, and Black shouted, "DISPELIO!"  
  
The arm turned a variety of colors, then back to it's old chrome.  
  
"But..." Sirius was shocked; the spell should have nullified it.  
  
"What's going on?" The color had returned to Pettigrew's eyes. "What's going on here?"  
  
Black raised the wand once more. "It ends..."  
  
"No! Match called for now! It is currently a tie!" Voldemort shouted.  
  
"WHAT? YOU CANNOT DO THAT!" Sirius rounded on him.  
  
"I will do as I please and see fit! Both of you, out of the ring, before I kill you." Sirius swallowed, and stepped out. So did Peter.  
  
"What does this mean?" Harry asked Dumbledore.  
  
"I don't know, it appears Pettigrew was possessed. I would imagine even with his distinct advantage he would normally still be apprehensive to step in the ring with Sirius."  
  
"I see."  
  
"But I do know one thing. It's my turn." He exhaled loudly.  
  
"Black." Fudge stepped forward. "Black, I don't believe it."  
  
"Believe it." Sirius told him.  
  
"Pettigrew." Fudge muttered. "That little sneak. So, are you both really unregistered animagi, as Dumbledore said?"  
  
"We are." Sirius said blandly, and stepped past him.  
  
"Good job!" Harry patted him on the shoulder.  
  
"Thank you! So who's next?"  
  
"Look." Harry suddenly hushed. Dumbledore stepped up to the ring, and when Voldemort announced, stepped in to face Karkaroff.  
  
"Dumbledore."  
  
"Karkaroff. So I take it the rumors are true. Do you really teach your student's the Dark Arts?"  
  
"Of course. Why not? Everyone has to learn to defend themselves, and I go on the offensive. CRUCIO!"  
  
"DEFLECTUS!" Dumbledore halted the curse.  
  
"So are you going to come to your senses, Karkaroff? Everyone deserves a second chance. You've already had yours, but I hate to see this happen to people. It's not like you've killed anyone."  
  
"Yet. AVADA-"  
  
"EXPELLIARMUS!" Karkaroff was thrown off his feet and landed on his back in the center of the ring. His wand flew aside.  
  
"You-"  
  
"Calm down!" Dumbledore now showed the same flare of fury as he had last year and the year before, Harry now realized, the kind that he showed only when he was truly furious.  
  
"Dumbledore... you know, as a fellow... you don't have to..."  
  
"No, I don't and I won't. Leave with me, Karkaroff, this match is over. There's no need for anyone to die anymore."  
  
"Very true." Karkaroff stood, and began to follow Dumbledore out the ring. That was it. The shortest match. Of course, Karkaroff didn't want to fight, and Dumbledore didn't want to kill. He stepped through the curtain first, but when Karkaroff walked into it, the green veil did not part.  
  
THUMP! Dumbledore looked back to find Karkaroff on his back, his eyes wide, dead.  
  
"YOU!" Dumbledore turned to Voldemort. "You did that! That was your fault!"  
  
"THE DARK REGIME HAS NO ROOM FOR COWARDS AND THE LIKE! HE GOT WHAT HE DESERVED!" Voldemort bellowed. "Now, the final match will begin now! Potter, in the ring. You shall face my bodyguard now!"  
  
"Your bodyguard. Of course." Harry said.  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Of course you would be to afraid to face me yourself."  
  
"What?" Voldemort had never had anyone speak to him like that before.  
  
"Just get in the ring and let's get this over with."  
  
"Go." Voldemort directed the shorter death-eater, one of the last between himself and Pettigrew. Harry entered the dueling ring and Voldemort's bodyguard unhooded himself as he stepped in.  
  
No.  
  
It couldn't be.  
  
But Harry was not surprised.  
  
"So, Potter, we meet again." Came the drawling voice.  
  
"So we meet again, Draco."  
  
  
A/N: So what did you think? Please R&R!!! I've got nothing else to say right now, but I hope you liked it. A lot of you are wondering why Voldemort didn't kill the winners with the curtain. Ask Dumbledore, he knows about dueling rules and the like. But for now, how will Harry fare now that he must face his former rival once more? We'll find out, in the next chapter! 


	8. Harry Potter and the Doomspell Tournamen...

Harry Potter  
And the  
Doomspell Tournament  
  
Last time, when we left Harry, it turns out that he must face his former and now second-to-ultimate rival, Draco Malfoy. Draco has been appointed Voldemort's Bodyguard himself, and now Harry must face them both consecutively, that is, if he can defeat Malfoy.  
  
The stakes are higher that ever, tension is strung tight, and the future of mankind hangs in the balance - balancing on one young man's shoulder's!  
  
Will Harry be able to defeat overwhelming odds like this once more? Or has his luck run out? There's only one way to know...  
  
Chapter 8  
Eternity Exigent  
  
Lightning crackled, striking the ceiling of the ring and illuminating the bolt a brilliant green all the way up to it's originating cloud.  
  
Draco raised his wand and Harry plunged into his robes for his.  
  
"EXPELLIARMUS!" Draco cried.  
  
"LEVITIO!" Draco's spell missed, and Harry thrust him off the floor and flipped him over backwards, sprawling him onto the ground.  
  
"Damn you, Potter, you're much better than the last time we dueled."  
  
"That was four years ago. Since then I've beaten everything your boss sent at me." Draco's face was contorted with malice.  
  
"Give it up, Malfoy. There's no point. We're still just kids, we shouldn't have to go through this."  
  
"Thanks for the offer, Potter, but you saw what happened to that coward on the corner of the ring. He's not in very good condition, now, is he? That's what you'll be looking like in a moment, too." He began to get to his feet.  
  
"Only if you cheat. Like you always did." Harry growled.  
  
Draco raised his wand, but Harry shouted, "IMPEDIMENTA!" And sent him flying to the edge of the ring once more.  
  
"It's going to be such a shame," Draco began. "To rid myself of such a worthy opponent." It was then that Harry noticed that Draco's eyes were white, completely, like Pettigrew's had been earlier.  
  
"Watch." Draco laughed. "Watch this little trick..."  
  
"DISPERSHIA!" Harry yelled, and Draco discontinued whatever he was trying to do.  
  
"Where'd you learn that one? My wand doesn't work anymore!" Draco was furious. "No matter." He placed his hands in front of him. "This will be just as easy. IMPERIO!"  
  
Suddenly, Harry felt himself relax. He was falling... falling... like that split second just before you drift off to sleep. And all the time, a little voice whispered in his ear, "Walk out of the ring, go on. Go ahead."  
  
"No. I'll get killed, I'm not stupid." He righted himself before he took even one step.  
  
"What? Do it!"  
  
"It's not like it will work, or I already would have." Harry turned back to him.  
  
"Damn! Guess it's time to do things the pathetic muggle way!" He leapt forward and grabbed Harry's throat, and began to push his jaw forward from behind as they toppled to the floor. (This would be known in first aid as a jaw thrust, by the way, which is very painful and can be potentially dangerous.)  
  
"You..." Harry managed to spit. "CRUCIO!" Draco was sent to the floor in howls and spasms. Harry kept up the curse for at least half a minute before pulling his wand back. When Draco looked up, Harry realized it had done the trick.  
  
"Potter? Where are we?" He rubbed the back of his head, still shaking slightly.  
  
"You mean you don't know? Draco, what month is it?"  
  
"I don't know, why are you asking? December for all I remember. I was just in my father's studio, how did I get here?"  
  
"Draco, look behind you." Harry commanded him.  
  
Draco turned...  
  
"Dear God, is it..." He turned back to Harry.  
  
"Yes Draco."  
  
"Then my father must have... must have..."  
  
"Must have what?"  
  
"He must have possessed me. I thought he said something when all I remember is passing out. Oh no, they didn't!"  
  
"Oh, yes, they did. I thought you wanted to, at first."  
  
"Wanted to? They've both almost gotten me killed twice now! I don't want to work for someone who manipulated me in that manner!"  
  
"I know."  
  
"DRACO!" Voldemort's screech was like nails on a chalkboard.  
  
"I've never really met him face-to-face." He whispered fearfully to Harry. "Potter, what's going on?"  
  
"We're in a dueling tournament to decide the fate of the world."  
  
"You mean, he'll kill us all if we don't win?"  
  
"Most likely."  
  
"DRACO! BOY! KILL HIM NOW!"  
  
Draco gasped. How can we do this?"  
  
"I don't know, the ring is lined with a killing curse, so you can't step out until one of us wins. This is all I know."  
  
"Were you going to kill me?"  
  
"I was hoping I wouldn't have to."  
  
"ENOUGH!" Voldemort was fuming. "It seems to me you have broke my possession of my bodyguard. Neither of you leaves the ring until the other dies!" With that, he raised his wand, swirling it overhead. The deathwalls on the ring joined edges to form a bubble shape, and began to close in on them.  
  
Harry and Draco stood back to back in the center of the ring.  
  
It was closing in... fifteen feet from them...  
  
"He want's you, Potter."  
  
"Yes, I know."  
  
"Well, give him more than he bargains for." Draco stepped forward.  
  
"Harry!" Dumbledore shouted. Sirius called, too. But there was nothing anyone could do to help.  
  
"I'm sorry for everything, Potter. Save the world again for all of us, why don't you?"  
  
"Draco, no! What are you doing?"  
  
"One of us must die for the other to leave. Good luck, Potter." He spread his arms and fell backwards, through the walls of the killing curse, and landed dead. The bubble burst, leaving Harry in the center of the ring, beyond shock and anger.  
  
Everyone was speechless.  
  
"ARE YOU HAPPY, YOU BASTARD!?!" Harry demanded of Voldemort.  
  
"Quite, actually." He cackled.  
  
"GET YOUR ASS IN THIS RING! WE'RE GOING TO FINISH THIS ONCE AND FOR ALL!"  
  
"Nobody speaks to me that way-"  
  
"I'LL TALK TO AND REFER TO YOU ANY WAY I WANT, VOLDEMORT! YEAH, I'M NOT AFRAID TO SAY YOUR NAME! NIETHER SHOULD ANYONE ELSE BE!"  
  
"Such insolence! You shall pay..."  
  
"He will not!" A voice countered.  
  
"Who..."  
  
"You'll face me, you coward." Alastor Moody stepped in the ring. "Out, Potter."  
  
"But, sir..."  
  
"I told you to leave."  
  
"I will not accept a match with you." Voldemort screeched.  
  
"Are you some sort of a coward? The boy shouldn't have to go through with this."  
  
"You will step out or I shall execute the Error curse here and now!" He bellowed. He stared Moody in both his real and fake eye, and Moody sighed, wished Harry luck, and stepped out.  
  
"I've waited too long for this, and I shall not wait another minute." Voldemort directed at Harry.  
  
"Try and kill me, if you can." Harry pulled out the weed and stuffed it in his mouth, chewing it up and swallowing it.  
  
"What is that?"  
  
"Heh." Marshall snickered.  
  
***  
  
"It's happening." Chuck told them. "I can feel it. Harry's fighting him."  
  
"How can you tell?" Neville asked him.  
  
"Is everything all right in here?" McGonagall stepped into the common room.  
  
  
"SHH!" They all hushed her.  
  
"My word. And what is a Slytherin doing in here?"  
  
"He's a friend, he's with us! SHH!" They turned back to the window. Lightning emanated from the swirling pillar of cloud that completely enrobed the Quidditch field.  
  
"I suppose there are more important things." She muttered as she sat by the fire with them to watch the clouds.  
  
***  
  
Voldemort glowered. "This time I shall not be so arrogant. AVADAE KEDAVRUS!" The glowing green walls were once more restored.  
  
"Now for you. AVADA KEDAV-" Voldemort was shocked as Harry suddenly disappeared.  
  
"Here I am!" Harry smashed the vial of Chuck's superacid over Voldemort's hood. But the liquid slid completely off his robes.  
  
"Whatever that was, it cannot possibly harm me. These robes are charmed."  
  
"Well, at least I know my friend wasn't just trying to get me killed."  
  
"AVAD KED-" But Harry disappeared again.  
  
Thank you, Neville. He thought.  
  
"IMPEDIMENTA!" He shouted, throwing Voldemort back.  
  
"DISPERSHIA!" Voldemort caught him off guard with a charm.  
  
"Dammit!" He dropped his wand, now useless.  
  
As he continued to dodge the curses, he noticed the green curtain flickering. Perhaps, he realized, Voldemort had to concentrate on it to keep it up.  
  
"Will you stand still for a minute!" Voldemort screamed at him.  
  
"Make me." Harry told him.  
  
"SUSPENDRO!" Harry hopped out of the way of the curse.  
  
"How can anyone be so fast?" Voldemort wondered aloud. Harry ran behind him, and before Voldemort could react, struck him hard in the neck. Voldemort fell over and was stunned.  
  
"Thank God for muggles and Judo. Or whatever that was. How about it, do you give up yet?"  
  
Voldemort growled. "SUSPENDRIA!" Harry tried to dodge it this time, but something was wrong. The weed must have worn out for one, and two, this particular advanced version of the suspension charm affected a large area. He couldn't move.  
  
"Now." Voldemort laughed. "This is where you beg for your life. CRUCIO!" His laugh grew and grew as did the pain, and in the distance, he thought he could hear Ron, Hermione, Cho, Marshall, and Sirius calling his name. Then shrieking it. Then...  
  
"It ends here!" Voldemort shouted. "AVADA-"  
  
But he did not finish the curse. Harry dropped to the ground and looked up to see Voldemort's mouth hanging open, drop his wand, but silent, and something silvery wrapped around his throat.  
  
"PETTIGR..." He choked out partially.  
  
"Pettigrew?" Harry muttered.  
  
"It DOES end here." Pettigrew remarked, squeezing harder. "Harry, I'm sorry."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'm sorry." Pettigrew burst out. "I'm sorry for all these years of pain, they're all my fault. I've been a fool Harry! I deserve to die for Lily, For James, for Sirius, for everyone who I've betrayed. I owe it to you all! But most of all, Harry, I owe my apologies to you. You shouldn't have had to have gone through all of this."  
  
"PETTI..." Voldemort was grasping his throat.  
  
"I know it can't make up for all of these years of pain, without your parents, Harry, but one wrong can be righted this day!"  
  
Voldemort placed his hands together and began to choke an incantation.  
  
"I'm sorry, Harry!"  
  
BOOOOOOM!!!  
  
Harry was thrown back as a deafening explosion reached his eyes and ears, the searing heat blistering his face and hands. When he glanced up a moment later, he was near the edge of the ring, the killing wall was gone, and in the center...  
  
A smoldering black crater, almost eight feet across and five deep, lie there, and only Pettigrew's false silver arm lie off to the side, and then melted and splattered as if it were mercury.  
  
He stood up and walked over to the crater.  
  
"All is forgiven, Peter. Thank you." He said as he realized what had happened.  
  
"You... you did it, Peter!" Sirius shouted, almost laughing. "I don't believe it, you little bastard, you did it! WHOO!!" He thrust his fist in the air. "Harry, are you all right?"  
  
"Sure am, just a few bumps and bruises." He smiled. "It looks like it's finally over."  
  
"NOT QUITE!" A voice boomed from above.  
  
"Ah, No!" He looked back up to see Voldemort levitating, a little blistered, and rubbing his neck, but otherwise seeming all right.  
  
"Ah, yes!" he landed in the ring. "Now do you see? It is all over, finally."  
  
"How..."  
  
"How is it over? How did I survive? It's not that important, in a few moments, you shall all be dead. Almost."  
  
"Almost?" Harry demanded.  
  
"Well, you see, when the black hole reaches it's full intensity, you will undergo what is known as speghettification as you are crushed by it. And you shall experience this for eternity, you see, because as you reach the singularity, time will be stretched for eternity. It will not effect me, however. I forgot to tell you, Harry, I have become immortal! I shall simply travel off just before it all ends. As for you, you will live forever, and so you will die forever. How poetic. Now!" He began, picking up his wand.  
  
"Harry!" Sirius tossed him Pettigrew's wand. Harry caught it and rounded on his heel, screaming the killing curse as he did. But voldemort knocked him aside before he could finish.  
  
"Hit it, now!" Ron shouted. About half a dozen killing curses and half a dozen stunning hexes came flying into the face of Voldemort.  
  
The blinding red and green light died down, and there...  
  
"He... he is immortal." Marshall stuttered.  
  
"We could..." Dumbledore began.  
  
"Let's see how long you can live WITHOUT YOUR HEAD!" Marshall shouted.  
  
"Mister Oak, no!" Dumbledore cried, but it was too late. Marshall conjured from his wand a beam of blinding light which extended about two feet, and charged Voldemort head-on, swinging and slicing.  
  
But all it did was bounce off him, or pass through. Marshall never even scraped him.  
  
"I will not even give you the privilege of dying." Voldemort laughed, and raised his arms to the dark skied.  
  
"I CALL UPON THE DARK OF NIGHT  
THE POINT OF NO RETURN!  
TO SWALLOW UP EVERY LIGHT  
FROM SUNS TO FIRES BURN!  
COME TO EARTH AND MAKE THEM COWER  
CRUSH ALL IN YOUR PATH!  
LET NONE ESCAPE THE PAIN AND FEAR  
AND TORTURE OF YOUR WRATH!"  
  
With that, the skies became even darker, and Voldemort began to glow a pale gray, and then they felt it.  
  
Little pebbles began to float a foot off the ground, and dust swirled up into great brown cones reaching the sky. Marshall stood to deliver a solid punch, but suddenly, he and Harry were thrown back by Voldemort and some unseen force that began to emanate from him.  
  
"IT SHALL CRUSH YOU ALL! THE END HAS COME!" Voldemort howled triumphantly.  
  
***  
  
"What is that?" Neville shouted.  
  
"This is it!" McGonagall told them. Mrs. Weasley had made her way into the common room and was hysterical over Ron.  
  
"This can't happen!" Stan shouted. "This can't be it!"  
  
"It's too late. It's over for all of us." McGonagall said solemnly.  
  
***  
  
"Headmaster!" Harry shouted over the slowly growing roar of the horizon. "I can stop him, but I need to get near him. Can you suggest anything?"  
  
"I'm sorry Harry." Dumbledore told him.  
  
"What about that arm Pettigrew had? It had a lot of power behind it!"  
  
"I'm not sure..."  
  
"AAAAAARRRGGGHHH!!!" Harry took Marshall's wand and sliced his left arm off.  
  
"Harry, what are you doing?" Sirius demanded as if he were mad.  
  
"Give... me one... of those arms..."  
  
Dumbledore complied, and Harry shook off the shock. He held out his new arm in front of him, and charged Voldemort. He was completely unfazed with it.  
  
"What? What are you doing?" Voldemort demanded.  
  
Harry grasped Voldemort by the throat.  
  
"YOU CAN"T!" Voldemort screamed.  
  
"Watch me. LEVITIO!" They took off, Harry dragging Voldemort.  
  
"Harry, no!" Sirius called behind him. But it was too late. Up they soared, higher and higher, until they reached the vortex.  
  
They were both pulled into the singularity. Then darkness.  
  
Nothing.  
  
A/N; Good ending? You never know what happened after that. Am I twisted or what? Hope you liked it...  
  
PSYCHE! Did you really think I'd leave you all hanging like that? Find out for yourself how it ended, in the next chapter, possibly the last.  
  
~Silverpen 


	9. Harry Potter and the Doomspell Tournamen...

Harry Potter  
And the   
Doomspell Tournament  
  
Has the end arrived?  
  
"Harry, no!" Sirius called behind him. But it was too late. Up they soared, higher and higher, until they reached the vortex.  
  
They were both pulled into the singularity. Then darkness.  
  
Nothing.  
  
Harry knew it as he approached the horizon. He was doomed to suffer an eternity of pain, a single moment of being crushed stretched into forever.  
  
He had braced himself, if one could, for what was about to happen. He could hear Voldemorts hollers of protest, and somewhere, off in the distance, his friends calling for him to come back. But he knew he couldn't. This was for the greater good.  
  
The roar of the vortex became even greater, and then...  
  
They were crushed...  
  
***  
  
"What is it, professor?" Stan asked Mcgonagall, who seemed in utter shock.  
  
"Something's wrong. Something's wrong with the horizon."  
  
"Has it stopped growing? Is it going away?" Dean asked.  
  
"Is the Dark Lord finally gone?" Neville inquired. But suddenly, they all felt very sick to their stomachs.  
  
"No, Neville. The vortex is now growing stronger at an unbelievable rate." She told them, staring at the pillar of cloud.  
  
"Something's going down in there. Something dead wrong." Stan acknowledged.  
  
***  
  
Harry hit the ground. The ground?  
  
The deafening roar was now reduced to a silent hum. He looked up to see Voldemort land about two yards away.  
  
They both hopped to their feet and that was when Harry realized he was still gripping Marshall's wand. Voldemort held on to his.  
  
"YOU." Voldemort glowered.  
  
"That's right. Me." Harry shot back with a furious look seemingly beyond his teen years.  
  
"You were going to kill me! You thought you could stop me! But now look! As long as I am here, at the singularity, the vortex will harvest my magical strength at an exponential rate, and I won't even have to expend it."  
  
"I just have one question. Why weren't we "speghettified"?" Harry demanded.  
  
"The vortex is not at infinite mass nor infinite density. Yet." Voldemort growled. "However, when it has harvested enough power, it will suddenly simply suck in the world and crush it. As well as us. Do you get it, boy? Look what you've done! You've damned us all!"  
  
"No, we were already damned. So was earth. You, on the other hand, were going to escape." Harry reminded him.  
  
"Now I can do nothing but go to hell with you." Voldemort was furious. "But it will be well worth it."  
  
Not quite, thought Harry. If I was to destroy him somehow, all of this would easily end.  
  
"I know exactly what you are thinking, boy. Have you forgotten that I am immortal?" Voldemort demanded. "Anyway, you have about five minutes for us before the horizon reaches it's full strength. Then it is all over." Harry took in his surroundings. Light slowed and passed overhead, and he could actually see the individual photons as they were stopped, began floating towards him, and then he realized.  
  
"We've already been crushed haven't we? Everything is almost the same size in here, isn't it?"  
  
"Very observant of you. Yes, it is only our individual magical strengths that were able to sustain us in this environment. You are actually standing on the singularity right now." Voldemort stomped his foot on the ground.  
  
"So, are we going to finish this once and for all?" Harry asked him.  
  
"Why not? Either way, you lose."  
  
"As do you."  
  
Voldemort's arrogant smirk suddenly twisted into a furious expression.  
  
"BURN IN HELL, HARRY POTTER!" He directed a curse at Harry.  
  
"Deflectus!" Harry responded, knocking the curse aside.  
  
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"  
  
Once more, Harry deflected the curse. It seems that Voldemort's magical strength was being depleted by the vortex, and he realized it, too.  
  
"Conventional spells won't work here." He told Harry. "Not as effectively, at least, as magic in it's purest form." He raised his wand up. "Now, Potter, keep your eye on the birdy."  
  
At the tip of Voldemort's wand began to emanate a reddish glow, which soon grew rather large, until it was the size of a big red basketball, and began to crackle white lightning.  
  
"A will of the wisp." Harry recognized this. Voldemort began to use his wand to direct it to fly around Harry, in front of him and behind him, and flying inches from his face. Harry knew that contact with the wisp would mean certain death. You couldn't deflect it.  
  
"Scared yet?" Voldemort asked.  
  
PLAM! A white bolt shot straight through his chest, knocking him to the ground.  
  
"You told me to keep my eye on the birdy." Harry said. "So I decided not to." The wisp disappeared, and Harry was left standing.  
  
"It's over, I guess." He said aloud.  
  
"NO, IT IS NOT!" Voldemort scrambled to his feet. "You now have about three minutes, and that is it." Harry couldn't believe he was still alive.  
  
"It... it went straight through you heart."  
  
"Yes, it did. But you didn't listen to me, did you, when I said that I couldn't be killed."  
  
Voldemort began to laugh in triumph.  
  
***  
  
"Professor, what do we do now?" Cho asked of Dumbledore.  
  
"There is nothing we can do!" Dumbledore shouted. But if it hasn't ended, than all it can mean is that Harry and Voldemort are still alive somehow!"  
  
"So can Harry stop him?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Right now..." Dumbledore looked down his long, crooked nose to the ground. "Right now, Harry is the only one we have to count on."  
  
"It's getting worse!" Cornelius Fudge's bowler flew off his head and across the ground.  
  
"Everybody, on three, we're going to execute wide-area suspension curses!" Lupin suggested. They all got ready.  
  
"One... two... three! SUSPENDRIA!" They shouted, pointed their wands at the earth, at least those who had them. It began to hold them in place as the black hole's pull grew worse and worse.  
  
Ron and Hermione looked at each other.  
  
They held on for dear life.  
  
***  
  
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"  
  
"CRUCIO!"  
  
A flurry of furious curses were exchanged with little effect back and forth. Harry was beginning to feel a tug at his feet grow; the singularity was gaining mass, and in less than two minutes (his time, as outside of the hole, time was occurs at a slower rate), there would be enough mass to crush them both. Voldemort was ecstatic; this would be his blaze of glory, his ultimate triumph. The world was done for; he had made his mark on history, undoubtedly the greatest scar on the face of mankind.  
  
This is it, Harry realized, as he collapsed, at a loss for words, the black hole sapping all of his physical resistance.  
  
NO! A voice shook him. No one ever got anywhere by giving up when it counted the most. You may only have a minute or two left, but you can still make the most of it. A minute may be all the difference in the world.  
  
But how? A nagging doubt told him. He's immortal, undefeatable. Brace yourself, you're dead. Might as well get comfortable, sitting there.  
  
People. There are people counting on you! There's always away.  
  
You can't win.  
  
"Embrace death?" Harry asked.  
  
"Huh?" Voldemort scowled.  
  
"I'm truly not afraid anymore. I'm not. Not of death. Not of you."  
  
Voldemort just smiled that hideous smile. "Of course. Brave Harry Potter, not afraid of anything, now, are you?"  
  
"Little. Now there's nothing to be afraid of."  
  
"I'd say. People have bigger problems."  
  
"Yes, and once they're done with them, nothing will seem scary ever again."  
  
Voldemort cackled. "Done with them? It'll be a long time before this "little" problem is out of there way. Are you a fool?" But Harry wasn't listening.  
  
"Prepare to embrace eternity, Voldemort." Harry warned him.  
  
***  
  
"Dumbledore!" Sirius shouted over the din.  
  
"These spells won't keep us here much longer! When the horizon reaches it's full intensity, we'll be unprotected!"  
  
"There's got to be some way to stop it out here!" Snape was gripping grass and a root he'd found on the field.  
  
"The horizon is not a normal one, but one composed of the darkest magical energies!" Dumbledore reminded him. The force is simply too much to combat without killing the conjuror!"  
  
"Then the dark lord must still be alive!" Marshall reiterated.  
"I'd give us another thirty seconds out here at the most!" Dumbledore informed them. Come on, Harry, I know you can stop him! He thought.  
  
You can do it, Harry. Cho believed.  
  
I'm sorry, Harry. Sirius thought.  
  
***  
  
About a minute left at the singularity.  
  
"What are you planning to do, boy?" Voldemort laughed aloud. "You aren't facing me, or a giant snake, or an army of Vampires anymore! You're dealing with the ultimate destructive force of nature! Your time has run out, the odds are too stacked against you, and curses don't work in here! I have won, I have won, I HAVE WON!!!"  
  
"No, you haven't." Harry told him.  
  
"What was that?!?"  
  
Harry felt it swelling within him. He remembered all the times of desperation in his youth... outrunning Dudley and his gang, leaping onto the school roof, shrinking the sweater... now he really needed some of that magic. Evolution. That's what it was. Magic, he realized, wasn't an abnormality, or a God-given gift. It wasn't a destructive tool of the devil, or an irregularity, it was evolution.  
  
He picked up his wand. The will of the wisp was one's concentration of all of one's hatred toward another and evil. Even with only the hatred, strong as it was, for this monster, Harry wasn't sure if his remaining magic would be enough to destroy this. Instead, he merely concentrated it on a single point.  
  
The tip of Harry's wand began to glow. Brighter and brighter, until it was as bright as one little dot could seem to get.  
  
Concentrate.  
  
The little light stretched and expanded to a solid, bright line.  
  
A little more...  
  
Now the line expanded to form a solid clear wall, emanating from the tip of his wand, and moving slowly toward Voldemort.  
  
"What is this?" He demanded.  
  
Harry looked him square in the eye. "Keep your eye on the birdy." He reminded Voldemort, who suddenly became horrified.  
  
***  
  
"Twenty seconds!" Dumbledore hollered.  
  
So this is how it all ends. Ron thought to himself.  
  
"This isn't our fault! There's always a solution!" Hermione yelled.  
  
"Fifteen at most!" Remus now told them.  
  
***  
  
"WAAAAAUGH!!!" Stan and Sharon were trying desperately to hold the windows shut, until the glass panes shattered and were sucked away.  
  
"Oh, Ron." Mrs. Weasley was slumped in a chair in the corner. Seamus was vomiting all over the floor in fear, and Neville wasn't looking too good himself.  
  
"Professor?" Chuck asked McGonagall.  
  
"Mister Breaker?"  
  
He paused for a moment. "Nothing." And he buried his face in his hands.  
  
***  
  
"What... what are you doing?" Voldemort screeched. Harry was forcing the great wall out from his wand, and Voldemort couldn't get around it.  
  
"No! There's no way you can!"  
  
"WATCH ME." Harry said firmly.  
  
"YOU CAN'T WIN!"  
  
Harry did not respond. Voldemort felt himself being pushed back...  
  
"AAUGH!" He screeched as he felt his heel go over the edge of the singularity. "IT'S TOO LATE FOR YOU! IT'S ALL OVER!!!"  
  
***  
  
"There's no time left!" The roar was greater now than ever; the earth rumbled, quaked, and split beneath their very feet; hey were all now truly afraid.  
  
Come on, Harry, what are you waiting for? Dumbledore wondered. "I know you can do it, why haven't you? I know that you're still up there!  
  
"Professor! This is it!" Ron shouted.  
  
They all braced for the endless end.  
  
***  
  
Voldemort growled but maintained his balance.  
  
"What are you going to do now?" He asked Harry. The relative gravity here is too much to release me! Your demise draws near, it is all over!"  
  
Harry was silent. Then...  
  
"NO!" Harry let it all go.  
  
Voldemort's wand slipped from his fingertips, and the wall threw him out. Away from the singularity. The force alone was almost enough to crush him, but not quite. He was flying further and further away... off, and then...  
  
True blackness. No crushed light, no nothing. An endless void, a corner of the black hole known simply as a tangent, Voldemort was lost once and for all.  
  
"POTTER!!! ONE OF THESE DAYS, YOU SHALL PAY, POTTER! You shall pay for everything! Everything..." The dark lord's voice grew fainter, until Harry heard his shouts no more. He was gone for good.  
  
Now, Harry wondered, How do I... But not another fraction of a second passed when he heard the loud noise, the singularity was closing in on itself. The light particles were shrinking, and collecting, and he was now growing weak, and then...  
  
...he was falling.  
  
***  
  
"This is it!" Ron shouted. They now all felt the lurch of gravity; Ron's head was thrown upward, and he vomited, but it all shot straight up, and then...  
  
"What's happening?" Hermione asked as the pull suddenly died down, as well as the roar, and they felt the familiar tug of earth's gravity.  
  
The horizon, the clouds, they all cleared up. In seconds, the day was bright and sunny once more.  
  
"You did it, Harry!" Doctor String shouted. Hermione and Ron hugged each other. Marshall was speechless, until a little of Ron's landing vomit hit his shoulder, and he made a face in repulsion.  
  
They turned their heads to see Dumbledore leap with his fist in the air and give a loud whoop, acting rather excitable for Dumbledore.  
  
They were all preparing to celebrate when Cho looked up.  
  
"Goodbye, Harry." She said softly.  
  
But she paused. Marshall was silent, too.  
  
"What's that?" Ron asked. Something was falling toward the ring, very quickly. Just before it landed, Dumbledore pulled out his wand and slowed it's descent. It was Harry; bruised, bloody, beaten senseless, but alive.  
  
"You... you did it, Harry." Hermione walked up to him.  
  
"I did, didn't I?" He asked.  
  
"I say, good show, Harry!" Cornelius Fudge came to give him a hand up. "I just have one question. Where is... You-Know-Who?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"No, I mean... He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."  
  
"I know who you're talking about. I don't know where he went. Didn't he fall down after me?"  
  
"No, he didn't." Dumbledore informed him.  
  
"Than I guess he's gone. Lost forever, I suppose."  
  
"A fitting end for him!" Corneluis exclaimed. Cho came up to Harry and embraced him. They kissed, and over her shoulder, Harry faced Dumbledore.  
  
"So, it's over?" He asked him. "Finally?"  
  
"Yes, Harry, I am sure of it. Voldemort's reign of terror has ended once and for all."  
  
A/N: Maybe... maybe not. One more chapter, at least, in this book, where dreams will come true and tears will be sewn. Perhaps Harry can have one normal school year. But you'll never find out, unless you read on. Please R&R!  
  
~Silverpen  
  
(P.S.- In response to an anonymous reader, Harry Potter and the Doomspell Tournament was supposedly going to be the title of the fourth book until it got out to he public and J.K Rowling changed the title due to this. However, it may just be the seventh book title. Guess we'll just have to wait and find out!) 


	10. Harry Potter and the Doomspell Tournamen...

Harry Potter  
And the  
Doomspell Tournament  
  
When we last left Harry, the Doomspell tournament had finally come to a conclusion. The courageous hero, in a last-ditch effort to save humanity, sacrificed himself by taking Voldemort into the event horizon, expecting never to return. He had sealed his fate, and made his mark on history.  
  
But history wasn't done with Harry Potter.  
  
When he came to his senses, Harry realized that by trapping himself and Voldemort in the singularity at the same time, he had not killed either of them, but now the singularity's power was growing at an exponential rate. And, it seems, he had discovered a new secret; Voldemort was immortal.  
  
With less than two minutes to earth's destruction, the fate of mankind was resting on the shoulders of a young wizard trapped in one of nature's most dangerous forces with the most deadly killer both the wizard and muggle world had ever known!  
  
The stakes at their greatest, the clock against him, and all seemed lost, when Harry learned a valuable lesson of life. And using his last ounce of strength, the young wizard hurled Voldemort off the singularity, forcing him to disappear forever into the darkest corner of the black hole. Now he has to escape, but how?  
  
Chapter 10  
Healing Wounds (Literal and Figurative)  
  
Now, Harry wondered, How do I... But not another fraction of a second passed when he heard the loud noise, the singularity was closing in on itself. The light particles were shrinking, and collecting, and he was now growing weak, and then...  
  
...he was falling.  
  
***  
  
"This is it!" Ron shouted. They now all felt the lurch of gravity; Ron's head was thrown upward, and he vomited, but it all shot straight up, and then...  
  
"What's happening?" Hermione asked as the pull suddenly died down, as well as the roar, and they felt the familiar tug of earth's gravity.  
  
The horizon, the clouds, they all cleared up. In seconds, the day was bright and sunny once more.  
  
"You did it, Harry!" Doctor String shouted. Hermione and Ron hugged each other. Marshall was speechless, until a little of Ron's landing vomit hit his shoulder, and he made a face in repulsion.  
  
They turned their heads to see Dumbledore leap with his fist in the air and give a loud whoop, acting rather excitable for Dumbledore.  
  
They were all preparing to celebrate when Cho looked up.  
  
"Goodbye, Harry." She said softly.  
  
But she paused. Marshall was silent, too.  
  
"What's that?" Ron asked. Something was falling toward the ring, very quickly. Just before it landed, Dumbledore pulled out his wand and slowed it's descent. It was Harry; bruised, bloody, beaten senseless, but alive.  
  
"You... you did it, Harry." Hermione walked up to him.  
  
"I did, didn't I?" He asked.  
  
"I say, good show, Harry!" Cornelius Fudge came to give him a hand up. "I just have one question. Where is... You-Know-Who?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"No, I mean... He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."  
  
"I know who you're talking about. I don't know where he went. Didn't he fall down after me?"  
  
"No, he didn't." Dumbledore informed him.  
  
"Than I guess he's gone. Lost forever, I suppose."  
  
"A fitting end for him!" Corneluis exclaimed. Cho came up to Harry and embraced him. They kissed, and over her shoulder, Harry faced Dumbledore.  
  
"So, it's over?" He asked him. "Finally?"  
  
"Yes, Harry, I am sure of it. Voldemort's reign of terror has ended once and for all."  
  
***  
  
"So that's how it all happened." I said.  
  
"That's how it all happened." Harry told me.  
  
"Brilliant work, Mister Potter." I scrawled a few more noted on my pad. "Headmaster Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione, thanks for all your support and the details. This'll be my second book on your exploits, you know, Harry. My first with the story coming straight from you."  
  
"I read your first in the middle of this year." Harry informed me.  
  
"Well, I hope your arm turns out all right. Thanks for everything, the world owes you a great debt."  
  
"Thank you, Mister Silverpen. By the way, if I may ask, what is your real name?"  
  
"My real name? Of course, It's..."  
  
"Excuse me, Mister Silverpen?" Madam Pomfrey entered the hospital room. "You've had long enough with my patient. He needs his rest."  
  
"Of... of course. My apologies. Thank you very much, all of you." I turned and left.  
  
"Who the heck IS that guy?" Ron asked.  
  
"Rather charming." Hermione said. "He had manners, unlike some people." She told Ron.  
  
"His first book was pretty lousy. So, how does that new arm feel so far, Harry?" Ron inquired.  
  
"How does it look?" Harry asked.  
  
Ron stared at the mass of muscle-covered bone that Madam Pomfrey had created over where the powerful silver limb was less than a day before.  
  
"That skele-grow tasted awful, but it's not half as bad as the muscle regenerator. Thank God she's restoring my nerves last so I don't have to feel any of this."  
  
"Those muscles will be atrophied for a few months. You'll have to work out the muggle-way to fix them up and get them to normal strength. When we're done." Those words sounded to Harry as if the worst was still to come.  
  
"Well, Harry, we'll leave you for now." Dumbledore told him. Ron and Hermione got up to join him, and they left.  
  
Harry sat back to look at a pile of various treats on the table next to his infirmary bed, along with decrees of gratitude from various wizard government organizations, and a medal of honor received (without ceremony, though Harry didn't mind) from the Ministry of Magic.  
  
And Sirius had let him look at something he had received earlier that day.  
  
A complete pardon by the ministry as well as a twelve-page formal written apology. Harry knew what this meant. He could hardly contain his excitement, especially when Sirius left to go file the adoption papers.  
  
Suddenly, there was a knock at the infirmary door. In walked Cho Chang.  
  
"Hey." Harry looked at her, feeling something deep within him swell that he'd never truly felt before. It felt wonderful to see her again.  
  
"I thought I'd never see you again. I was scared." She admitted quickly, softly.  
  
"Hey, don't worry. We're all scared at times. Come sit down." Harry beckoned to her.  
  
"Thank you." She said, and sat at the foot of his bed.  
  
"Candy?" He gestured to the pile on the bedside table.  
  
"No, thank you." She smiled. He loved that smile.  
  
"I suppose I won't see you next year." Harry said. It was nice while it lasted. "But I wish you the best, wherever you go."  
  
She grinned. "Wish me the best next year. I'm teaching here."  
  
He paused, his jaw slack. "You are?"  
  
"Yes, I can't wait. I'm hoping to someday become head of the educational branch of the ministry of magic."  
  
"I certainly hope you do. I look forward to next year, though."  
  
"Yeah. I just wanted to thank you." She told him.  
  
"Everyone wants to thank me." He paused. Was it right?  
  
"No." He finally said aloud. "No, no one owes me anything, except a pat on the back for quick thinking, I suppose. You saw it all, didn't you?"  
  
"Of... of course." She said.   
  
"I just had a last desperate thought. I owe everything to other people. God. Luck, perhaps. Pettigrew..." He thought for a moment. Who had been his greatest enemy had become, in his greatest moment of need, the uncle, in a sense, he'd never been. Wormtail's debt had been repaid.  
  
"It's funny, I..." He started.  
  
"Yes?" Cho was eager.  
  
"I did in there what anyone else would have done. I could just imagine Dumbledore, or Fudge, or even you in there."  
  
"I would have probably been too scared..." Cho told him.  
  
"I wouldn't think so. When so much is riding on your success, Cho, the lives of people you love, you seem to forget about your own. I was worried. About you. With what was at stake, I doubt there are few people that would not have stood up and fought. Especially you. We all had to be brave through this whole ordeal, Cho, but now it's over. Let's not reflect on the past; just keep it locked away in memory so that we make sure that it does not repeat itself."  
  
She smiled, a small tear forming at the corner of her eye. "You're right. It's over. There's nothing to fear anymore. Life seems so much better, that we can take the safety of our lives for granted and not have to fear anything anymore."  
  
"It's funny, you know. It was Voldemort, in a sense," She was not even afraid of him using the name anymore. "Who made me what I am. Each year prepared me for the next, until this one led to his end. He prepared me to fight him. Kind of... ironic." Harry laughed softly.  
  
"Poetic. Funny, actually." Cho smiled at him.   
  
***  
  
He couldn't breathe. He hadn't eaten or drunk anything in days. He was in constant agony. But that was one of the problems with being immortal.  
  
After a while, he'd gotten used to not breathing. There was a little light, oddly, which must have been trapped in the otherwise empty tangent he floated through.  
  
As there was no air, he couldn't scream, or even speak. But he could still think. And so he thought revenge.  
  
Someday, he thought, someday, I'll make that Harry Potter pay for everything he's done to me.  
  
But Voldemort had lost. It was cold, he had been freezing for weeks now. Or maybe seconds, but the Tau Factor, otherwise known as time dilation, could have stretched a second in the real world into an eon in the black hole.  
  
He was alone. And bored, so awfully bored...  
  
Wait a second, he remembered. Just before I left for the Doomspell Tournament, I threw on these old robes. And I was reading...  
  
YES!!! He thought as he pulled an old Victoria's Secret catalogue from his inner robe pocket. If I'm stuck here for good, I might as well not be bored...  
  
CLUNK! Something struck him on the back of his head, and he was knocked senseless for a moment. He looked up to see a muggle orbital satellite go flying by. It must have gotten caught in the black hole earlier.  
  
Voldemort rubbed the back of his throbbing head, and then turned back...  
  
The catalogue had slipped from his hands and was floating off in the other direction. And as there was no air to push against in there, he couldn't follow it.  
  
Ah, son of a BITCH! He thought, crossing his arms. One of these days, Potter...  
  
Now, more than ever, Voldemort wished for death.  
  
But death never came.  
  
***  
  
"And so, another year gone." Dumbledore raised his goblet. "It's great to see you all here."  
  
"So we won." Ron told him. Harry flexed his new arm, weak and raw but a real part of him, nonetheless.  
  
"And now, to award each student their due. Please stand, Mister Ronald Weasley. Miss Hermione Granger." They stood. "I now formally declare you Head Boy for next year in Hogwarts, and Hermione, Head Girl."  
  
"Mister Marshall Oak, I declare you an honorary prefect. Congratulations." Marshall was excited.  
  
"Next year, we will have a problem finding a Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher. Mister String has business elsewhere. And so, our new teacher will be..."  
  
Harry and Snape were both crossing their fingers.  
  
"Professor Severus Snape." Dumbledore announced.  
  
Oh, well. Harry thought. You can't win them all. Maybe Snape will be a little less malicious if he gets the job he wants.  
  
"And that leaves our new potions and alchemy teacher to be Miss Cho Chang."  
  
All right! Harry thought now. This was going to be his one good year, after all.  
  
"And finally, may we all raise our goblets in a toast. A toast to the one person who is the reason we are all still here today. Mister Harry Potter." There was a powerful rush of applause that lasted for nearly three minutes, even from the Slytherin table.  
  
"Excellent!" Dumbledore declared. "Now, we all know Gryffindor won the Quidditch cup, for it's fifth consecutive year and technically retaining it for six taking in account the Triwizard Tournament. Now we must decide who won the house cup."  
  
McGonagall was looking stony. Chances seemed slim for the Gryffindors this year.  
  
"In fourth place, with two-hundred and seventy-eight points, the Ravenclaws." Cheers from three other tables still in the running. "In third place, with three-hundred and ten points, the Hufflepuff house." More cheers.  
  
"In second place, the Gryffindors, with four hundred and four points." Massive cheers from the Slytherin table. The Gryffindors were now looking very down.  
  
"And in first place, the Slytherins, with four hundred and eight points." The results were in. The Slytherins just cheered even more.  
  
"Five points." Ron muttered amongst the din. "Five more points and we would have won."  
  
Then Harry remembered. He made his way up to the professor's table as green and silver banners and streamers flew down from the ceilings. Harry whispered something in Dumbledore's ear.  
  
"Ah, yes! Stop the celebrations for a moment!" Dumbledore silenced the hall with a few bright, golden firecrackers originating from the tip of his wand. The Slytherins suddenly all turned dead serious. "It seems we have forgotten to take into account one incident. An action of Mister Potter's has caused the Gryffindor house to lose five points, bringing them to three-hundred and ninety nine points, as deducted by professor Snape." The Slytherins whooped and began to celebrate, when Dumbledore silenced them once more.  
  
"However, during the Doomspell Tournament, it seems Professor Snape had also awarded Mister Potter ten points, for another action. This brings Gryffindor house to four hundred and nine points, putting them in first place and retaining the house cup for the sixth year in a row."  
  
A moment's pause.  
  
Then, the din was deafening.  
  
Harry suddenly was gripped from behind in a tight embrace by... Professor McGonagall?  
  
He turned and caught the eyes of Snape, who didn't seem either angry or disappointed. He simply gave Harry an almost indistinguishable nod that clearly said, "Now we're even."  
  
Harry went back to the Gryffindor table, and sat down. Almost ten minutes later, the noise and celebration subsided.  
  
Harry was sitting with Ron to his left, Hermione to his right, Cho across from him, Marshall next to her, and Neville on the other side, all of them chattering excitedly. Harry was glad to be able to eat in peace with his friends without having to worry about anything anymore, knowing that life would go on without worries now.  
  
He wouldn't have life any other way.  
  
***  
  
Harry drifted off with Cho's arm around his shoulder on the Hogwarts express, Ron and Hermione sitting together, and soon they all were asleep in that cozy little car, though it was the middle of the day.  
  
He was awoken what seemed like minutes later, but he could already see the sun was on the other end of the sky, that it was past noon and near supper already.  
  
He got up, and so did Ron, Hermione, and Cho, and they said their good byes standing on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.  
  
"So I guess this is it." She told him.  
  
"Keep in touch over the summer." He told her. "You'll know where to find me now."  
  
"Of course. I can't wait until next year. Thanks again, for everything, Harry." She kissed him on the cheek and hugged him, and then exited the platform, barely able to say another word.  
  
And so, it's all come to an end. Or perhaps it's just the beginning, He thought.  
  
"Visit me sometimes." Ron told him, and patted him on the back, before Miss Weasley cut in and gave him a great big squeeze, sobbing and telling him he was welcome to drop in anytime.  
  
"Thank you." Harry told her. "Have a great summer. Ron, Hermione."  
  
"Oh, I will." Hermione told him.  
  
"Hermi-ohnee!" A familiar voice exclaimed. Harry looked over to see Viktor Krum, sitting on a two-seater bike that obviously concealed a broomstick. He could most likely fly it off any time he needed to.  
  
"Hey, Viktor!" She waved, went over, and sat on the seat. Ron too, followed his parents out to their car, gave a little wave, and they drove off.  
  
Now Harry just had to find...  
  
"BOY!" Another familiar voice bellowed.  
  
...the Dursleys.  
  
"Get in the car!" Uncle Vernon, purple-faced, shouted at him.  
  
"No." Harry said simply.  
  
"What? Boy, you get in there now, before I thrash you. You're still a minor, and as long as you're under my roof, you will..."  
  
"I'm no longer under your roof." Harry smirked.  
  
"THAT'S IT! GODFATHER OR NO GODFATHER, YOU'RE GETTING IT HER AND NOW, I'M NOT AFRAID ANY..." But he paused, and Harry felt a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Ah." Sirius Black's voice said softly from behind him. "You must be Vernon Dursley. I'm Harry's Godfather, Sirius Black. It's a pleasure to meet you." Sirius's eyes flashed.  
  
Uncle Vernon went from Purple to blotchy white faster than his new car went from zero to sixty, and he fainted. Behind him, Aunt Petunia stood, stiff with terror, and a very skinny Dudley, who appeared to have had liposuction recently, as his skin was hanging several inches off his bones.  
  
Harry walked past and Dudley, for some reason, still tried to trip him obviously on purpose. Harry sidestepped it, turned, and looked Dudley straight in his eyes.  
  
"Hocus. Pocus." Harry said simply. Dudley began to scream, tore off through the train station, with Aunt Petunia only two steps behind, shouting. "Duddy-kins, Duddy-kins!"  
  
"What's gotten into him?" Sirius smirked.  
  
"Beats me." They walked over, and Sirius pulled out a small black object, pressed a button, and a bright new red muggle type car's doors opened, hinging upward in a Delorian fashion. "Hop on in."  
  
"Nice." Harry commented as he got in. Then he saw the red button. "This... this is a flying car."  
  
"Sure is." Sirius depressed the clutch. "Press it."  
  
"But we can't fly here."  
  
"Don't worry. We're automatically cloaked. The ministry covered this one as part of their apology."  
  
"Cool." Harry hit the button. They instantly lurched upward, and were flying off.  
  
"So, we do still have a lot of catching up to do." Sirius remarked.  
  
"We've got all summer, Sirius. Dad."  
  
Sirius looked surprised. "Thank you Harry. I know I could never really replace your father..."  
  
"If it had to be, I wouldn't want anyone else to." Harry told him. Sirius grinned.  
  
Harry reclined in his seat, and watched the setting sun. The sky was lit beautifully aglow above the clouds now.  
  
The world was a wonderful place, Harry decided, with much in it still to explore.  
  
But now, just for a moment, the world could wait.  
  
A/N: I know it breaks the mood, but... PLEASE REVIEW!!! I hope you liked it. If you did, let me know... Harry just may return!  
  
~Silverpen 


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